A Jedi Wizard Tale
by brokenhealing
Summary: Where the Force is more like leylines, Jedi and Sith are wizards, and Yoda is actually a troll. And soul-bonds. Because Obi-Wan/Anakin
1. Chapter 1

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 1

"You can't be serious!" Obi-Wan exclaimed.

Mace, Yoda and Chancellor Palpatine all looked at the wizard-knight with varying degree of—nonplussed. Obi-Wan hid white-knuckled fists behind his back. Surely they couldn't all think this was a good idea!

"Knight Kenobi, the Council did not make this decision lightly. We've been debating it for the better part of the last three days since we got this damned cease-fire request!" Mace snapped, half out of his chair, his brows furrowed so deeply, Obi-Wan thought his eyes would pop out of his skull.

"Unwise, it would be, to send a more—or less—experienced knight, we have decided," Yoda chimed in.

"So I'm expendable—!"

"You have faced Skywalker," Chancellor Palpatine interjected, "more times than anyone and lived to tell the tale." One more nail in the coffin, Obi-Wan felt.

"It's a trap!" Obi-Wan blurted, his hands flying above his head. How could they not see that it was a trap?

"You think we haven't considered that?" Mace exploded, fully out of his chair and one step closer to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan found himself taking a step back, despite most of the council room still between him and the dark-skinned master wizard. "That's a risk that we've had to consider! That's why we need it to be you! If it is trap instead of a peace negotiation, you stand the best chance of pulling out of the situation instead of just becoming another casualty!"

"And you think this because of my past record?" Obi-Wan seethed. "Skywalker—he, well, um…"

Obi-Wan faltered, memories of his last encounter with the dark wizard fizzing through his mind like a static shock. Skywalker had _had_ him, and it was only that weird spark that happened whenever the two of them got too close together that had thrown Skywalker off and let Obi-Wan escape yet again. Skywalker had wanted to touch him on purpose that time, as if he was trying to work out this strange phenomenon in his head, and he just needed a little more information. Obi-Wan had felt like a bug, crushed by Dark Side energy against the face of the bluff as Skywalker deliberately removed his glove and stretched out hesitant fingers to stroke his cheek.

The resulting charge in his own energies had been enough for Obi-Wan to throw Skywalker back and flee back to his own troops' line. If Quinlan and Aayla had not also been there, though, Obi-Wan feared that that would not have been enough to stop the dark wizard mounting another assault to corner and trap Obi-Wan.

…this was his own fault, he realized. He shouldn't have excluded these strange encounters from his field reports to the Council.

Mace's brows were now as far up his head as they had been into his eyes before. What kind of muscle control did it take to do that? They screamed 'Well?' to Obi-Wan. He needed to come clean.

"Skywalker—he, um, he _reacts_ , um, anytime we…come into contact…" Obi-Wan trailed off, unsure of how else to explain the alarmingly powerful energy that flowed between Skywalker and himself. "He's after me!" he blurted.

"Skywalker couldn't possibly know that we would send you, young Kenobi," Chancellor Palpatine soothed. "I see no reason for the amount of alarm you are expressing."

"Do your duty, you must," Yoda insisted. "Allow fear to cloud your mind in this, you should not." He tapped his wizard stick on the floor, like a judge's gavel, final and resolute. The miserable troll.

Obi-Wan nodded stiffly, bowed and left the room. He was a general after all, and he knew when retreat was in order.


	2. Chapter 2

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 2

Jocasta Nu watched Obi-Wan flip another ancient tome shut with a sigh of disgust. The archives, usually a solemn, dusty place, pulsed with the agitated shuffling of the wizard knight. Dust motes swirled in the afternoon light streaming in from the archer slits in the vaulted walls. Obi-Wan reshelved the tome before pulling down another, beginning yet another tedious page by page search for Force knew what.

Enough was enough. She strolled slowly over to the table the wizard knight had commandeered and, with hands folded neatly behind her back, she leaned forward and arched one delicate white eyebrow.

Obi-Wan glanced at her once quickly before doing a double take and frowning impressively. "You and Mace," he mumbled.

Jocasta arched her other eyebrow as well.

Obi-Wan rubbed his ginger beard, a nervous habit everyone in the Order was well-versed in. "Yes…? Madam Records Keeper?" One hand still nervously fingered a page to flip to the next in his newest tome.

"Ah yes," Jocasta said, "I am the Records Keeper. Perhaps if you would take the time to inquire, I can assist you in your…frenetic search."

Obi-Wan looked affronted at it being implied he was frenetic anything. Jocasta couldn't resist the tiniest of smiles. Obi-Wan had spent more time than most in the Archives, and the two of them shared a bond over love of knowledge if nothing else. Wisdom and dignity had been traits she had watched Obi-Wan strive for with great diligence. No wonder suggesting him frantic would ruffle his feathers.

But it was the release valve Obi-Wan apparently needed. He sighed like a bellows and said, "I would greatly appreciate some assistance actually."

Jocasta's smile faded. "So what has you so troubled then?"

Obi-Wan went back to stroking his beard. "Tell me, can you think of any reason why one wizard would get a—a power boost from another?" Obi-Wan glanced away, staring off into the distance. "But only…only when they're touching skin to skin."

Jocasta frowned. "What have you been doing, reading fairy tales, Obi-Wan? I heard you have an important role as Negotiator coming up, it hardly seems the time."

"Jocasta, it's not a fairy tale!" he said. "It's happened to me! Please listen!" he added. His cheeks were red, from anger or embarrassment or both, Jocasta could not say. "The first time I dueled Skywalker, we locked blades, and our auras—it was like lightning striking the sea during the worst of storms…"

She found her frown deepening. Something niggled at the back of her mind, though what it was she was not yet at that moment sure. Instead she nodded, encouraging Obi-Wan to continue his story.

Obi-Wan drummed his fingers on the table, like he was deciding what to say—or perhaps what not to say. Jocasta gave herself a little shake. She had no reason to think Obi-Wan would withhold information, or, or _lie_ of all things. It was strange though, the way he stared at the table top as if ashamed.

Finally, he continued. "He brought us into a hilt lock, body to body, and he grasped my wrist with his bare hand…which is so _odd_ because he always wears gloves, ask anyone they would say the same—"

"Obi-Wan," she gently chided, raising an eyebrow yet again.

He nodded jerkily once, hands falling to his knees where they bunched in his robes. "My apologies, Madam Record's Keeper." Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, as if he was in a dream and he was trying to figure out how to wake up. "It was just—I don't know exactly how to explain it." He shifted on the bench, eyes suddenly vividly and intensely locked with hers. "It was like our auras except deeper, like somehow he had touched my heart, the essence of me instead of just my wrist."

Obi-Wan tore his gaze away, abruptly standing, hands on either side of the tome. "I suddenly felt like, like two people but—still just one, and he must have felt the same, or something similar. We both dropped our swords and flew apart from each other, as if burned." He turned his eyes back to her, a stormy gray compared to the usual placid blue Jocasta remembered from his page years assisting her in upkeeping the Archives. "It _was_ like a burn," he mumbled, staring off again, eyes unfocused. He rubbed his left wrist. Jocasta wondered if he noticed.

"And then?" she prompted, curious as to what happened next.

Obi-Wan snorted. "The cavalry arrived. Skywalker eluded capture once again, and I was lauded for holding my own against the strongest dark wizard in recent memory."

"Sith," Jocasta corrected absentmindedly, that stray thought niggling again at the back of her mind.

"Exactly!" Obi-Wan exploded. "Yet the Council stubbornly refuses to call him what he is! They refuse to accept the return of an order they happily believed extinct! To their own folly…and very likely my doom," the last bit so morose Jocasta felt she must intervene.

"Now Knight Kenobi, no doubt you exaggerate. And the Council is never foolish—everything they do is for reason and the best of all parties." She couldn't keep the censure completely from her voice at Obi-Wan's brash statement.

Obi-Wan shook his head, a high blush spreading up his cheeks to his forehead. "Apologies again, Madam. I overstep myself…but there is something at work here and I feel I must know what it is before I go to meet Skywalker for these supposed peace negotiations."

Jocasta nodded, face solemn. "I do find your account—unusual and slightly troubling, Knight Kenobi. I will assist you in your search for information."

At that, Obi-Wan sagged, relief obvious as he swiped a hand down his face. "That—would be very much appreciated, Madam Nu."

She set a gentle hand on his bowed shoulders. "All will be well, Obi-Wan. Never fear." But even as she offered platitudes, a sharp knot formed in her own stomach. There was something very troubling about the story Obi-Wan had shared. Something she had read once, something she felt was important.


	3. Chapter 3

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 3

The ride was insidious. Because the negotiations had to be in neutral territory, Skywalker and the Republic had agreed on the Outer Kingdom as the fairest place to meet. Which meant switch-back trails through mountain passes for Obi-Wan. On three different occasions he had had to cast a levitation charm to stop him and his accompaniment from plunging into a ravine. Commander Cody had been rather offended by the last, as Obi-Wan's spellcasting had been almost too slow and the result had dangled the commander upside down from his ankles. Cody's horse was lost and he now had to ride double with Rex.

Rex, Cody's twin, gave his brother no grief over the incident, but Cody had slipped into a moody silence nonetheless.

Obi-Wan did feel rather guilty about the situation, as he had been lost in his own thoughts.

Even with Jocasta Nu's assistance, Obi-Wan hadn't found what he was looking for in the Archives before the Council had called on him to get on his way. Now he traveled through mountain passes where his chief thought was that he was _expected_ to come this way and it was a perfect setting for a trap.

"General Kenobi," Rex called out yet again. Obi-Wan already had his fingers sparking, mindful for a quicker save this time. Rex and Cody and mount seemed perfectly set on the narrow trail, so he let his grasp on his magic slide back into the pool he imagined in his chest.

Rex waited calmly, Cody still looking put-out at being down a horse. "Yes, Commander?" Obi-Wan inquired. If he could cock an eyebrow, now would have been the time.

"We really should be leading."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. This argument again.

"I must also agree, General," Cody chimed in. So much for sulking, Obi-Wan thought moodily.

"Agreed or not, the decision is out-of-hand until such a time as we can reach a path wide enough for us to switch places," Obi-Wan deflected. He didn't want to bring up the rear. He had originally been sandwiched between the two brothers, but after Obi-Wan had failed to save Cody's horse, he had taken the lead. The twins, sent as his honor guard, had heatedly debated that they should continue to sandwich the general with Cody on foot. Obi-Wan had irritably pulled rank and told them to buddy up.

That actually may be more the reason for Cody's sulking, now that Obi-Wan allowed himself time to think about it.

Obi-Wan could hear the brothers armor clinking as they shifted on the remaining mount. "Sir, if that is the only argument, you could easily levitate us over you," Rex said. "Or we could revisit the plan of one us going on foot…"

A clattering of rocks behind them stopped conversation as all three glanced behind them. Little rocks were dancing across the path they had just passed over and a deeper rumble was becoming audible as they stared.

"Avalanche, sir!" Cody cried, hand pushing against Rex's shoulders and feet digging into the sides of their horse, urging the poor thing into the rump of Obi-Wan's mount.

"Don't be ridiculous, there's not enough snow!" Obi-Wan snapped even as he urged his own mount forwad.

Rex, recovered from Cody's shove, gathered his horse's reigns tightly to keep from overtaking Obi-Wan as they hurried around the next bend in the trail. "Rockslide then!" he cried. As in answer, one large boulder crashed onto the trail behind them, followed by a jumble of others.

Obi-Wan threw up a shield as rocks came pouring down the mountainside. Pebbles and boulders and stones rolled over the top of his barrier, shunted over then down the mountainside to their right. Sweat beaded his brow as magic crackled at his fingertips. The weight of the rock was testing his strength, draining him faster than they really should.

As quickly as it came, the rockslide was over. Obi-Wan collapsed over his pommel, panting as he drew his magic back into himself. That shouldn't have been so difficult.

"General?" Cody, or Rex queried. Obi-Wan had trouble knowing which one spoke on voice alone.

"I'm all right, though I'm getting a bad feeling," Obi-Wan said, forcing himself upright and gathering his own reigns. He grabbed for his water tin and took a great drink, casting out with his senses for anything peculiar in the Force around them.

Hitting a block just around the next bend in the trail was the opposite of reassuring.

"A very bad feeling," Obi-Wan murmured.

There was a clatter of armor and Cody was there, deftly slipping around Obi-Wan's mount to the front of their small party. He already had his sword half-drawn as he snapped his visor down over his face. With sword fully drawn, he stalked up towards the bend.

"Commander, wait!" Obi-Wan barked. Obi-Wan too slipped off his horse, despite the precipitous drop to his right.

"Sir, I've watched you throw up plenty of those overhead shields. This is the first time, though, where it made you break a sweat. There's wizardy—"

" _Dark_ wizardy," Rex added.

"—afoot here." Cody finished.

"All the more reason for me to go first!" Obi-Wan insisted. "You both were meant as an honor guard and protection against mountain bandits. I will not have you sacrifice yourself against forces you cannot fight!" In a pique of frustration, Obi-Wan levitated Cody back to his brother and knocked both of them out with a mind suggestion.

There was no sense in them dying.

When Obi-Wan rounded the corner, it was to a wider bit of trail, some scrubby grass growing along the cliff face. The sun lit up a small alcove where a man sat, legs crossed, on an intricate granite seat that was undoubtedly unhewn rock earlier in the day.

The man had shoulder-length dirty blond hair, dressed in black riding leathers with sharp-looking red trim. Broad shoulders filled out the leather admirably as long arms draped negligently over his perched knee. He wore gloves on both of his hands, his broadsword resting peacefully against the cliff face.

Obi-Wan knew him immediately.

"Skywalker," he hissed.

Skywalker quirked a smile in his direction.

"This was not our agreed upon meeting place," Obi-Wan said. He forced his shoulders to relax even as he crossed his arms. He tested his reserves—they were alarmingly low after the rockslide. He reached for the Force, only to find and dark and swirling almost lovingly around Skywalker.

Skywalker simply nodded.

"This is a trap!" Obi-Wan blurted as he leaned forward, putting as much accusation into his tone as he could muster.

Skywalker laughed. "Of course it is a trap, Kenobi. You're too good at escaping me otherwise." The dark wizard stood, the bright sunshine suddenly muffled by the darkness swirling around the dark wizard. "If you knew this was a trap, I suppose I should thank you for springing it anyway." With a casual step, Skywalker toed a line in the dirt.

And activated a Sith trap that Obi-Wan suddenly realized he was standing in the middle of. The Force sprung up around him like so many vines and turned black in his veins. Tendrils slithered up his arms and chest until he felt his heart entangled and his magic inaccessible. The spiderweb of spellwork was almost beautiful in its delicate darkness. Obi-Wan didn't have a single chance to fight it and the shock of being cut off from the Force after constantly feeling its presence sent Obi-Wan stumbling to his knees.

He pressed his hands to his chest, gasped breaths burning in his throat. The darkness of unconsciousness was welcome relief after that.


	4. Chapter 4

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 4

"It's a trap!" Jocasta shouted, bursting into the Council chambers.

Mace felt his eye twitch. He hoped no one noticed. What was with usually calm and reliable wizard knights being convinced everything was a trap?!

The records keeper was clutching a small scroll in her hand, the kind found in the darkest, dustiest corners of the Archives. Many of them contained legends and stories from the Sith Wars, ended now over a thousand years ago. Mace resisted the urge to rub his temples.

"Madam Record's Keeper, I must declare that I have no memory of asking you to report," Mace snapped.

"Don't you talk that way to me when I taught you how to clean a toilet, Mace," Jocasta snapped. Her eyes flashed dangerously, a sharp crackle in the air.

Had everyone lost their flipping minds?!

"Enough!" Yoda barked before Mace could. "Fighting amongst ourselves, not the Jedi way it is," the little troll said, long ears pivoting between Mace and Jocasta.

Jocasta all but ignored him, the air still charged as she brandished the scroll towards both Yoda and himself. "You must recall Kenobi at once before it is too late!"

"Too late for what?" Mace demanded. He leaned forward in his seat, tried to appear more imposing. He didn't particularly care to be reminded that he had to scrub toilets as a page.

"Too late to stop that—that _Sith_ from capturing poor Obi-Wan!" Jocasta cried.

"Why do you both think Skywalker is, is _fixated_ on Obi-Wan?" Mace asked.

Yoda was suddenly between them, hobbling across the room in jerky little hops as he used his wizard stick like a cane. Both Jocasta and Mace followed him with their eyes. With a quick snap of his fingers, a teapot appeared out of thin air along with a hovering little flame. "Have some tea we should," Yoda murmured then chuckled to himself.

Transmutation was a disturbing amount of magic to use so casually. Which Yoda undoubtedly knew and had done on purpose to remind both of the humans in the room that if he got annoyed, he could just flatten them to a seat and seal their mouths shut.

Mace and Jocasta calmly joined Yoda for a cup of tea. They sat on the low cushioned stools where the teapot hovered.

"Now, tell us about your concerns you should," Yoda urged as he wrapped Jocasta's hands around a kitschy little tea cup. Mace found a similar cup dwarfed in his own hands not a moment later.

Jocasta sipped her tea.

Mace figured he best do the same.

"Are you familiar with the story of Bastila Shan and Revan?"

Mace rolled his eyes. He was so past the point of dignity. "The love story?!"

"More than one version of that story there is," Yoda chimed in, sipping his own cup of tea.

Jocasta shifted forward in her seat. "But a common thread in all the tellings."

"The soul bond?!" Mace demanded, setting his tea firmly down on a neighboring stool.

Yoda bared his teeth. "Need some more tea, you do," he murmured and hobbled over to fill Mace's cup back to the rim. Mace blinked at the little green troll. Then he gingerly picked up his cup and sipped his tea. He idly wondered if he was being drugged.

"Yes the soul bond!" Jocasta snapped. "Obi-Wan told me about one of his encounters before he left—"

Mace waved a hand. "He told us too! I don't know what has gotten into the both of you—"

"Let Madam Nu speak, you must!" Yoda cried, banging his stick on the ground again. "Of dire consequence I fear this to be!"

Mace furrowed his brows at Yoda then lifted them meaningfully at Jocasta.

She took a sip of tea, slowly raising an eyebrow back at him. He rolled his eyes and gestured for her to continue. "My apologies for interrupting, Madam Record's Keeper. Please continue."

Jocasta proceeded to share Obi-Wan's account of his first direct encounter with Skywalker and the skin-to-skin contact and the fallout. "None of that was in the report," Mace said, his stomach suddenly twisting in knots.

The story of Bastila Shan and Revan did vary. Most people liked to tell the story of how Bastila saved Revan from the Dark Side and healed his soul with her love. In the darker account, where Revan was Darth Revan of the Sith instead of an altruistic Jedi seduced to the dark, Revan had discovered the soul bond between the two of them, and had used it to bind Bastila to him to be used like an energy source until he had sucked the very life from her. He had realized too late that she was a part of him, and he died, having drained out her soul and consequently his own in his machinations to take over the kingdom.

"Wonder, we must, what else Kenobi may have left out of his reports," Yoda mused.

"But why?" Mace asked.

"I think he was embarrassed," Jocasta said. "And he didn't know what to make of it. He probably assumed, and rightfully so, that the Council would brush aside his concerns as a child's tale."

"So what are you suggesting?" Mace said.

"I'm suggesting that Obi-Wan is in more danger than just going for peace negotiations with a Sith. If it is a soul bond, and Skywalker knows…"

"Bind Kenobi to himself, he can, and even more formidable Skywalker's power will be."

"Dammit!" Mace snarled. "We need to contact Kenobi and tell him to pull back immediately!"

Suddenly Quinlan burst through the door. "I'm sorry to interrupt but this can't wait!"

"Like Sith hell it can't!" Mace said. Somewhere he had spilled his cup of tea, the cup rolling around on the ground. Quinlan seemed for a moment shocked at the sight of the hovering teapot and flame.

Then Rex and Cody stumbled in behind him. The two were bruised and battered, leaning against each other as though drunk—or severely injured.

Jocasta placed a delicate hand over her lips and murmured, "Then we are too late."


	5. Chapter 5

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 5

Obi-Wan awoke gradually. The first thing he became aware of was how soft the quilt pulled up over his waist was. The next was the twittering of birdsong drifting in through a nearby window. The third was how the manacle around his wrist clanged as he shifted to pull the quilt over his shoulders.

He sat up at that, giving the manacle and chain an experimental tug. His heart was pounding as he glanced around the room. It really was an ordinary room, with stone walls, a neat vanity with a bowl of water for freshening up placed on top, fur rugs to cut the chill of the stone floors and a modest double poster bed. There might have been a cedar chest at the foot of the bed. It was hard to tell from where he was sitting, chained by his left hand to the headboard.

His robes were also missing, leaving him in his under tunic and loincloth. That alarmed for reasons he couldn't quite explain. He reached for the Force to snap the manacle off his wrist—only to be met by that terrifying restriction that had plummeted him into darkness before. He tugged his collar down and sure enough could see the tendrils of Dark Side magic glimmering across his chest like a vicious creeping vine intent on breaking him down bit by bit.

Well, let no one say that Obi-Wan Kenobi didn't carry a few tricks up his sleeve.

Reaching up behind his ear, Obi-Wan was relieved to feel the small Force-infused lock-pick still tucked discreetly in his hairline. Quinlan had suggested it even as Siri Tachi and Aayla had teased them for employing such a hedgewitchy trick. With a pre-fixed spell, one, the lock-pick could be easily hidden on one's person, and two, it could be used to pick any lock, no matter the difficulty of tumblers. The spell did all the work. Was Obi-Wan ever glad for it now.

The manacle sprung open with a simple press and twist of the 'pick, though the pick did heat up as it released the spell. Obi-Wan scrambled out of bed, pressing the still warm lock-pick back behind his ear, more glad for Quinlan's unorthodox upbringing than ever before. There was a chamber pot next to the headboard that Obi-Wan quickly took advantage of and then he headed for the open window to see if he couldn't figure out where in the world he was.

No sooner had he looked out the window than a door creaked open behind him. He was faced with the discordant image of Skywalker carrying a tray of food like a common servant.

For his part, Skywalker frowned at the empty bed before calmly setting the tray down on the cedar chest. "You are going to tell me," Skywalker jerked his chin towards the empty manacle, "how you managed that."

Obi-Wan edged towards the chamber pot as Skywalker strode purposefully around the foot of the bed. "That sounds like the opposite of a good idea if you don't mind my saying so," Obi-Wan said. With a quick dash, Obi-Wan scrambled over the bed.

Skywalker scoffed. "Do you really think you can just walk out of here?"

Obi-Wan had had a half-formed plan to play it safe, wait until he was alone again, but there was something about Skywalker's self-assured cocky attitude that just rubbed him the wrong way. So even though a part of him knew he very well may be blowing his best chance at escape, Obi-Wan grabbed the pick from behind his ear and shoved it in the lock on the door. "I think I shall," he said throwing a derisive look over his shoulder. Then he was out in the hallway and running.

He slipped the 'pick back behind his ear in the unlikely event that Skywalker hadn't see it or realized what it was. He actually almost made it to a turn in the hall before he felt the tug of magic on his ankle that tumbled him flat on his face.

He figured Skywalker would catch him. He figured Skywalker would be angry. He didn't figure Skywalker would be an accommodating idiot. Instead of confiscating Obi-Wan's magic lock-pick, he flipped Obi-Wan on his back and slammed a palm against his chest. The Sith spell locking away Obi-Wan from his own magic and connection to the Force flared excruciatingly. Obi-Wan yelled, clapped a hand to Skywalker's wrist to try to dislodge him.

Skywalker hissed, backpedaling and falling on his butt in the hall. He rubbed his wrist as he glared at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan curled in on himself, both hands pressed to his chest, fingers so many curved question marks against his skin. The spell was like bands now, making it hard to breathe. Damn Skywalker to Sith's hell.

"Please," he gasped.

"You shouldn't have been able to access your magic before!" Skywalker hissed.

Oh sweet Force, Skywalker really was an idiot.

"I couldn't before!" he wheezed, feeling a little panicked at how difficult it was to inhale. "And now I can't breathe!"

"You can breathe enough to, to _scold_ me," Skywalker groused.

Obi-Wan gaped at him like a fish. "What are you, a child?!"

Skywalker sneered at him, then slipped his ridiculous black cloak off so that he could drape it over Obi-Wan, scoop him up and carry him back to the room. He dropped Obi-Wan on the bed, summoned the manacle back around his wrist.

Obi-Wan wheezed some more. He tried a cough and the pain shot through him as though someone had just plucked out one of his ribs and was using it to sew his belly button to his spine.

Between one second and the next, the pain went from unbearable to placid and gone. He heaved in a deep lungful of air and another and another as he stared sightlessly up at the ceiling.

The bed dipped to Obi-Wan's left. He glanced over to see Skywalker's back, head in hands. He was torn between a strange urge to comfort his nemesis and the idea of attempting to strangle him with the chain connected to his manacle.

When Skywalker twisted to face him, Obi-Wan felt pinned. "You've done something to me. I should kill you, but you've sorceried me somehow. I should kill you _for_ socerying me."

"What in Sith's hell are you talking about?"

"More like Jedi hell," Skywalker grumbled.

…the leader of the Separatists really was a child.

"And you can't use sorcery like that."

Skywalker rolled his eyes. "What, were you a primary schoolmaster before the war started?"

Obi-Wan cautiously rolled off the bed to put a little more distance between the two of them. The chain rattled like a twisted sad version of jingling bells. "If you're trying to fool me into thinking you actually completed primary, you can save your breath."

Apparently that was a sore spot. Obi-Wan collapsed against the bed as an invisible hand clamped around his throat and cut off his breath yet again. "I can read!" Skywalker snarled. Then he shuddered and gasped, as if he had cut off his own air. Skywalker waved his hand and Obi-Wan could breathe again.

Skywalker stood and, before Obi-Wan could recover, had circled the bed and kneeled next to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan pressed back against the wall and almost stuck a hand in the chamber pot he had used before Skywalker's arrival, causing it to clatter against the stone.

A bird chirped from the window sill. Obi-Wan watched it preen its tiny chest before fluttering away freely into the sky. His heart clenched painfully as he turned back to Skywalker's smoldering blue gaze. Had his eyes always been so blue? Usually when they were so close, Obi-Wan was so fixated on getting away, he had never noticed before.

Skywalker's eyes flitted over Obi-Wan's face, searching for what, Obi-Wan could only guess.

Again with trembling fingers, Skywalker reached out a hand to touch Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan banged his head against the wall. "I think we've already established that that is a bad idea," Obi-Wan tried, not willing to bring up his own bare hand to fend off Skywalker's reach.

"Well, I didn't do it, so it must've been you," Skywalker said.

Obi-Wan stared at him. The manacle pulled awkwardly at his wrist so he shifted to a kneel which brought him a bit too close to Skywalker. To his surprise, Skywalker backpedaled, eyes wide as he overbalanced and fell flat on his butt once again.

What was going on?

"I…why do I feel like I should be close to you?" Skywalker blurted out. "But it burns every time...what have you done to me?!"

"Nothing!" Obi-Wan snapped, frustrated and overwhelmed. It was strange to realize Skywalker was just as clueless to the reason for the strange reaction between the two of them.

Skywalker bolted to his feet, took clipped steps around the foot of the bed. Picking up the tray of food, he set it on the bed in easy reach of Obi-Wan. "You should eat something. Your stomach growling was what brought me here in the first place."

He was already to the door when Obi-Wan spoke into the silence. "You can sense that from me?"

Skywalker kept his back to him, hands clenched into fists at his side. "You haunt my _dreams_ , Kenobi. And I'm going to figure out what you've done." He looked over his shoulder. "It will go better for you if you tell me." He turned back and walked towards the door.

Obi-Wan stood, glad that the bed was once again between the two of them. "Don't pretend this is my doing. You drain my power every time we touch!" It was like fire, consuming—but warm, so warm.

"What?" Skywalker said. He took a step back towards Obi-Wan, eyes bright like the stars in a night sky and completely focused once again on Obi-Wan. Oh why hadn't he just let the Sith leave? "Don't _you_ pretend like you don't do the same to me! You…you used my magic against me!"

Obi-Wan knew he was referencing their last encounter against the bluff. The energy in his veins had been foreign and yet familiar, burning and searing even as it warmed him. Obi-Wan gulped. Jocasta had mentioned fairy tales. What if…?

Skywalker was staring at him again, his mouth slightly open as if he had realized something. In a flash, Obi-Wan found himself pressed back hard against the wall. He pushed against Skywalker's chest, unsure what to think, what to do, just knowing it was a Bad Idea for the two of them to be this close.

Then, of all things, Skywalker leaned in. Obi-Wan was able to turn his head enough that Skywalker's lips smeared over his cheek instead of slamming against his own lips.

But the touch was electrifying all the same. This was the part where they usually flew apart, either from shock on Skywalker's part or force on Obi-Wan's. Now though, with Obi-Wan's magic sealed away, his wrist shackled to the bed, and Skywalker pinning him to the wall, now…

Obi-Wan shuddered, unsure of what to make of the tumult of emotions and magic spilling through his chest. His stomach twisted, his chest felt tight, his head felt like it was floating away. His heart ached, like someone had stuck their hand into his chest and was squeezing it. His veins burned as if all his blood had been drained out and replaced with molten metal.

Skywalker breathed against his neck, his shoulder-length hair whispering against Obi-Wan's skin. He gripped Obi-Wan's shoulders, thumbs rubbing lazy circles into his shirt. He pressed his lips just behind Obi-Wan's ear. Obi-Wan hunched his shoulder, honestly unsure if the feeling was unpleasant—or something else entirely. The shutters clacked against the window sill, the water basin on the vanity cracked ominously.

Skywalker's voice was low, soft, and full of awe as he murmured, "I think you belong to me."

"No!" Obi-Wan cried, bucking against him, trying to gain some distance. Skywalker slid his hands down his arms and wrapped bare fingers around his wrist. They both gasped as their auras locked together. A literal storm started brewing in the room, wind whipping around them both where Skywalker still had them pressed against the wall. Obi-Wan felt that hand around his heart pulse in time with their auras.

With a hiss like a launched firework, the Sith spellwork bound around Obi-Wan's magic snapped as if it were nothing but old string. Obi-Wan took the opportunity, reaching for his magic only to find it was foreign and strange, twisted through with Skywalker's dark essence. Skywalker was smiling maniacally as Obi-Wan looked up and locked eyes with the younger Sith.

"I think…" Skywalker began, "…you're mine."

Obi-Wan thought the sudden peal of thunder was extremely distasteful and unnecessarily melodramatic. Enough was enough. Despite the slimy (familiar—right…) feeling of Skywalker's magic mixed up with his own, Obi-Wan reached for the Force and slammed Skywalker back away from him.

The magic-induced storm dissipated.

"You can't own me!" Obi-Wan snarled, no longer afraid and a little angry in his own right. He snapped the manacle from his wrist with an almost negligent flick of magic and dropped into a battle stance.

Skywalker rubbed his jaw where he had hit it against the corner post of the bed. He blinked rapidly at Obi-Wan. "But I can bind you to me."

That's when Skywalker's eyes went from blue to yellow.

Obi-Wan had a bad feeling about this. 


	6. Chapter 6

A Jedi Wizard's Tale

Chapter 6

Quinlan had a bad feeling about this. But that was always how he felt any time he had to go the Archives. After Rex and Cody had staggered through the west gate, Kenobi-less, Quinlan had known he had to get them to the Council immediately. He had thought perhaps he would get roped into a rescue mission or ordered to mount a counter-attack. Being assigned to Jocasta Nu, _the_ Madam Records Keeper, to research a Sith lord's motivation wasn't the outcome he expected.

It was kind of his personal nightmare actually.

Not that it didn't make sense. With his special gift to touch an object and perceive the memories of its former owners made him capable of going through a records in a singularly unique way. That he had been told to look for things that felt like soul-bonds made him blink at Mace and Yoda. Not that he wouldn't do as he was told. This was for Kenobi after all.

He rounded another shelf of hide-bound books, trailing his fingers over the spines and letting the memories it triggered wash over him. He stopped on one book that 'felt' pink and happy to him, though wound through with a troubling inky black. He pulled the book down.

 _The Love Story of Revan And Bastila Shan, A History_. Quinlan frowned. Hadn't Madam Nu said something about looking for records on those two in particular? He had heard the story himself as a kid of course. How the noble Revan had set out to right wrongs with his faithful squire Alek only for them to run afoul of the evil Sith emperor. Then there had been a girl. Both had fallen to the Dark Side but it was through love that Bastila Shan was able to bring Revan back to the light. Epic clash with Alek-turned-Malek who continued in his evil ways. Bastila got captured, Revan confronted Malek and rescued her. Then happily ever after. The end.

Quinlan randomly flipped open the tome, curious what could fill a book this size.

' _Revan and Alek's choice to leave the Jedi Order over the Council's stance on the Mandalorian conflict ultimately trigged the Jedi Civil War of 3958 BBY. At this time the Council was unaware that both men had fallen to the dark side and would soon found a Sith empire of terrifying might and unforeseen destructive power. It was at this time that Revan adopted the Sith title "Darth" and Alek became known as Darth Malek.'_

Quinlan raised both eyebrows. Revan started an empire? An evil empire? That wasn't in any tale he had ever heard. He flipped ahead in the book.

' _Bastila Shan and Revan were both unaware of the soul bond that existed between the two. Malek alone possessed the knowledge and intended to exploit it to defeat his Sith master and take over the empire. Evidence of his repeated attempts to capture Bastila are evidenced in the battles of Leviathan, the Jedi mount, and the Star Forge._

 _In the Leviathan battle, Revan was injured to the point of death. It was then that both Bastila and Revan became aware of their bond, Bastila crippled from fleeing by Revan's pain, but it was subsequently through the same bond that Bastila was able to stabilize and save Revan's life._

 _Soul bonds continue to be extremely rare with few documented cases outside of Revan and Bastila. However, as we will see as we continue through the history between the two how fortunate for the rest of the world it is that this is fact. Soul bonds sound fanciful and perfect in theory, but as revealed through the lives of Revan and Bastila, they can cause the most tragic hardships as well.'_

Quinlan rubbed his forehead. Truth was stranger than fiction for sure. Soul bonds? What did that even mean. He snapped the tome shut, satisfied that it was very much the kind of information Madam Nu was looking for. He figured he should get it to her straightaway.

He was more than a little shocked to be stopped by Chancellor Palpatine when he strolled out from the shelves.

"Quinlan? Is that you? I was looking for Madam Nu and I seem to have gotten a bit turned around. Mace was telling me that she had found some information that may explain Kenobi's plight?"

Quinlan nodded. "Yes sir. I think I've found some more info here as well." He waggled the book in the air between himself and the Chancellor.

The Chancellor seemed immediately interested. "Come, dear boy, tell me."

Quinlan shifted, suddenly nervous and unsure why. "Of course, sir," he said, even as he glanced around for Madam Nu in the hopes that he could pass off book and chancellor both to her.

Chancellor Palpatine clutched the long sleeves of his tunic that trailed down past his fingers. He had on a rich velvet overtunic today. The gold girdle he wore around his middle glinted strangely in the dusty light streaming in through the high windows. He furrowed his brow. Quinlan remained silent, studying the man and trying to pinpoint his own cause of discomfort.

The chancellor twirled a finger through the air, brow still furrowed. "Something troubling you?"

Quinlan shook his head. He suddenly felt like he had a cold. "No," he mumbled. He rubbed his forehead. "No why would anything be troubling me?"

Palpatine smiled slightly. "You know, if I do recall, you aren't much accustomed to Archive work. I assume you would like to be on your way."

Quinlan nodded his head emphatically.

"Why don't you let me take the book to Madam Nu? I still needed to talk to her anyway. That way you can get back to what you were working on, and the sooner you get back to it, the sooner you'll be done and free, hm?"

That cold feeling was back. But the chancellor's words made sense. He nodded slowly and handed over the book.

"Good boy," Chancellor Palpatine said. Then the older man was walking swiftly away, the slightest jaunt to his step if Quinlan was any judge.

His head still felt heavy and stuffed. He rubbed his nose. Maybe he was coming down with something. He wandered back into the shelves, trailing his fingers over the spines yet again. It would be several hours before Madam Nu came to collect him.

"Did you find anything?" she asked.

"No, nothing," he said.


	7. Chapter 7

A Jedi Wizard's Tale

Chapter 7

**Author's note: trigger warnings this chapter for non-consensual kissing and touching

Obi-Wan knew a little about the Dark Side. All Jedi did. _Know thy enemy_ , after all. He knew that the Force could be misused, just like any tool, any weapon. He also knew the stories of bindings, and what was involved.

 _Peace is a lie, there is only passion._

Like Sith spit he was laying down and taking that.

Even as he thought it, he realized it was the worst possible way to word it.

For the second time since Skywalker entered the room, Obi-Wan jumped on the bed intent on getting to the door and away. He ran smack into a Force wall and landed on his back on the bed. Just as quickly, Skywalker was on top of him, grappling for his wrists.

Obi-Wan reached again for the Force even as he landed a hard jab to Skywalker's ribs. Skywalker retaliated with a vicious backhand. Obi-Wan's Force push was cancelled by one of Skywalker's own. Then with a vicious bite to his own fingertip, Skywalker smeared a line of blood across Obi-Wan's cheek.

Obi-Wan recognized the impromptu Force restrictor spell for what it was. Panicked, he pushed against it with his own magic, now a twisted tangle of his and Skywalker's essence. They both gasped as the Force was suddenly repelled from both of them completely.

Skywalker screamed in rage, bringing a fist down into Obi-Wan's gut. Obi-Wan grunted and twisted enough that he could kick out. The fight was now only physical and he feared what a loss would mean.

 _Through passion, I gain strength._

He scrambled out from beneath Skywalker and tried to roll off the bed only to have Skywalker drop his full weight on his back. And dammit if the Sith wasn't both taller and heavier. Obi-Wan brought his elbows to his waist as Skywalker tried to grab his wrists again. If he could just—

Except Skywalker was a _dirty_ fighter. He yanked Obi-Wan's head back with a fist in his hair. Then he had a forearm around Obi-Wan's throat. Obi-Wan tried to roll again and he reached up to grasp at Skywalker's arm. Skywalker pressed down with his weight as he continued to pull back with his arm.

Obi-Wan choked, bile burning the back of his mouth and turning his stomach sour. This would not end the way he wanted. His vision was spotty and his arms were starting to feel like limp noodles.

Just as suddenly as it all had started, Skywalker released him and was off the bed. Obi-wan curled his fingers into the sheets, not caring about anything except breathing at the moment. Skywalker was cursing somewhere to his left. His skin tingled, not just from the fight, but from whatever strange twist of the universe made their auras and magic mesh.

"I would have you tell me what spell you've place on me, Jedi!" Skwalker cried.

Obi-Wan managed to turn his chin just enough that he could glare at Skywalker out of the corner of his eye. "I told you already, Sith, it wasn't me."

Skywalker scowled at him. "Anakin."

"What?" Obi-Wan pulled himself up to a sit and scooted back towards the headboard. He rubbed at the blood on his cheek. It was enough to dissolve the restrictor spell and he grimaced as Skywalker's eyes flashed with power; so the spell had indeed affected Skywalker and now he could use the Force again too.

"My name. It's Anakin."

Obi-wan stared. Did he suddenly want to be civil? "Excuse me if I didn't realize we were on a first name basis," Obi-Wan said.

Skywalker flexed his hands then clenched them into fists several times. Obi-Wan rubbed his throat and pulled a flicker of their mixed magic to his fingertips in case Skywalker decided he wanted to cut off Obi-Wan's air yet again.

"Don't try it," Skywalker hissed.

"I'll defend myself, Sith." Especially now that he could, both of Skywalker's inhibiting spells shattered, he realized, by the power flowing between the two of them.

He thought he had his guard up. But all his attention was directed towards Skywalker and maybe that was Skywalker's ploy all along with giving his _name_. "No!" Obi-Wan snarled as the headboard came alive, growing around his wrists and neck before he could stop it. He tried to push his own magic into the wood to reverse its hold on him, but Skywalker was there, kneeling over him and once again swiping a line of blood across his face.

His focus was all wrong again, on Skywalker when it should have been on what Skywalker was enchanting the headboard to do, on the headboard when it should've been on Skywalker. The blood flared against his skin and the burn sunk into his mind and the Force went dark and absent from his heart.

His heart which was now beating at a terrifying rate. Obi-Wan couldn't move his hands, his arms, his head. Skywalker straddled his thighs, preventing him from moving his legs. Obi-Wan blinked rapidly. He wrung the sheets between his fingertips where they were pinned by the twisted wood.

 _Peace is a lie, there is only passion._

 _Through passion, I gain strength._

 _Through strength I gain power._

Skywalker's touch was discordant in its gentleness as he brushed a lock of hair off Obi-Wan's forehead. Those blue eyes demanded Obi-Wan's attention as fingertips moved down his cheek to trail along his jawline.

"Call me Anakin," he murmured.

"No," Obi-Wan said, and he averted his eyes, no longer willing to submit to the Sith's gaze.

Skywalker made a frustrated sound and then his hands were at the hem of Obi-Wan's shirt. He pushed it up, fingertips tickling across his abs. He felt his bound magic hum and simmer inside his chest at the touch. He felt too hot, his stomach twisted into knots at the light touch. "Stop it," he tried as he jerked in his bonds.

"No," Skywalker mocked. Wicked fingers found his nipples next, a lazy exploration that flicked over the top of them. Obi-Wan bit the inside of his cheek and found himself looking into Skywalker's eyes again.

Skywalker had a deep scowl on his face, brows pinched even as he drug a thumb down Obi-Wan's sternum, the terrifying electric tingle from skin on skin between the two emphasized by the singular touch. For a brief second, Obi-Wan saw past the cruelty of the moment, the tightness in the back of his throat, the knots in his stomach. Something in his eyes told him, _Skywalker was as confused and upset as him_.

And that was the key for him to let go of his fear. Obi-Wan shuddered out a deep breath.

"What—?" Skywalker began, sensing the change no doubt.

Obi-Wan could see the bond that connected them now, the one he had been denying. And from there it was easy to draw Skywalker's own power along it to dissipate the most recent restrictor spell Skywalker had cast.

Obi-Wan realized that if the two of them were on the same side, no one would be able to bind one without binding the other. They would be formidable in battle, their strength doubled by each other's presence. Any tandem spells would be spectacular.

He reached for the magic infused into the headboard next, intent on releasing it back to its original shape. Except he should've known Skywalker wasn't out of tricks.

The kiss was daggers against his lips. And explicitly distracting.

He gasped, a mistake as a foreign tongue invaded his mouth. He tried to bite down but there were strong fingers at his jaw points applying painful pressure. Skywalker wasted no time plundering his mouth, licking behind his teeth, tangling their tongues together. All the while, magic zinged and burned with each contact. Obi-Wan felt hot all over and he would never admit it but he found himself kissing back, a strange compulsory rightness searing through his chest, like this was something he needed as much as air.

It seemed to surprise Skywalker who pulled back a fraction to search his face. A glimmer of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. Obi-Wan felt drugged at the look, at the kisses, at the electrifying skin-on-skin touches. He tried to shake his head to clear it, impeded still by wood collar grown round his neck.

Skywalker kissed him again, and he went with it, unable to think clearly. Then there were hands at the waistline of his under-breeches and he jerked in his restraints. He needed to say something to stop this. He couldn't concentrate on anything but the skin-to-skin which fogged his mind, stopping him from pulling power through the bond once again. It was still too new and strange for it to be natural. Skywalker ghosted his fingers over his lower abdomen, and he sucked in his breath. Dammit why couldn't he think?!

All of it left bile burning in the back of his throat and Obi-Wan hadn't ever been—intimate, and this was not how he would have imagined it. Any lover of his would love, and comfort, and trust…

"I'll never trust you!" he spat. "You can—can force this binding, but I will loathe you and hate you and never forgive you! You can't…" He trailed off, ashamed to realize he was close to tears.

Skywalker stilled, resting a hand on each of Obi-Wan's hips. "Why should I care?" he said, not making eye contact.

It was such a sliver of hope, this pause, but words were all he had at the moment. "You care," he said. "You want me willingly at your side. Not," Skywalker's hands slid back to caress his ass, "not like this!" Obi-Wan finished, voice higher, unable to hide his panic.

The two locked eyes. Skywalker's jaw was clenched so tight, Obi-Wan could see a muscle twitching in his cheek. "You will call me Anakin," he ground out, pulling his hands back to his thighs.

Obi-Wan squirmed, trying to alleviate Skywalker's weight pinning his thighs. "Yes all right," he said, averting his eyes. He felt displeased, upset, disappointed. And then he realized with a jolt that he wasn't feeling any of those things, or maybe he was but so was Skywalker. "I mean," he started, "yes all right, Anakin."

Immediately the displeasure and disappointment faded and was replaced by a foreign feeling of hope. As if Skywalker had hardly ever felt hope in his life.

Obi-Wan was getting a headache.

Skywalker leaned in again for a short kiss, startling Obi-Wan into jerking back against the headboard, the twisted wood digging painfully into the back of his neck. There was that weird sense of other-feelings not his own again, a swirl of frustration, alarm, and worry. Skywalker was worried about him?

With a groan in the air, the headboard untwined from his neck and wrists. Obi-Wan didn't dare move though. He sensed this was a fragile peace.

Skywalker slid off the bed, eyes never leaving Obi-Wan's face. He touched his own lips and suddenly his eyes looked a little glazed and his face hungry. Obi-Wan hid his mouth behind the palm of his hand. Otherwise he still hesitated to move.

Skywalker gave himself a shake, blinking rapidly. "What's your name?"

Obi-Wan couldn't stop himself. "Pretty sure you're supposed to ask that before you kiss someone," he said. He took satisfaction from the high color that slipped onto Skywalker's cheeks.

A moment of silence ticked by.

"Obi-Wan," he finally said.

Skywalker nodded, licked his lips. "Obi-Wan," he murmured. "Would you…would you like some supper?"

The food tray that Skywalker had brought earlier had gotten kicked off the bed, little slices of cheese and fruit scattered on the stone floors like a strange parody of fallen shoulders. Obi-Wan brought his legs into a cross-legged sit, trying to ignore that his hands were trembling. His lips still tingled. "I seem to have lost my appetite," he replied honestly.

Skywalker's face went ugly, one side of his mouth slashed upwards in a sneer. Obi-Wan looked towards the open window. He could focus on the Force again. He cast out his senses to it and pulled at the bond, hoping to be ready for another attack if it came. He clenched his fingers tightly to stop them shaking.

Just as he felt a flare of other-feeling of rage, frustration and, alarmingly, lust, it all snuffed out in a burst of alarm and surprise. "Why do you feel…?" Skywalker started and trailed off. The muscle in his cheek jumped again.

And Obi-Wan was suddenly sure of what the other was thinking. "You want to say 'You don't need to be scared of me,'" Obi-Wan said. "But you can't because even in all your Dark Side subversion, you would know it for the hypocrisy it is."

Skywalker opened his mouth as if to say more. Then he snapped it shut and went again to the door. This time Obi-Wan stayed silent. He even held his breath waiting for the Sith to leave.

Obi-Wan had a tickle of warning before a sharp tug jarred through his chest, that feeling like a hand in his chest back once again. He curled forward, one hand pressing against his chest.

The wind picked up again inside the room as Obi-Wan felt a steady stream of his own magic being dragged forcefully away from him along the bond. Certainly two could play at that game? He imagined the magic swirling back to him even as he reached for the Force for an extra boost…

Shields abruptly dropped down over the bond. What a great idea. Obi-Wan brought up his own shields in response.

"I'm sealing this room," Skywalker said. "I think you know that at this point I'll know if you try to leave." The door slammed shut behind him. The air hummed throughout the room before going silent. Obi-Wan inhaled as the little hairs on his arms stood straight on end.

He waited a few moments more before gingerly getting off the bed one more time. He walked to the window. He stuck one finger out the window. "Ow," he said, as he pulled his finger back from the sting of energy field Skywalker had generated around the room.

They had awakened something in each other. Of that Obi-Wan was sure. What the exact nature of the bond was still puzzled and alarmed him. But he was also sure that Skywalker couldn't restrict him from the Force ever again. Which is why the Sith hadn't bothered to try before leaving the room; he knew it too.

Obi-Wan picked up a piece of cheese from the ground and picked off any bits of dirt he could see. He popped it in his mouth and chewed slowly. He'd eat what he could. Then he would break Skywalker's enchantment and see how much distance he could put between the two of them before Skywalker could reach him.

He leaned against the window frame, finally taking in the view. The bird was back in the window, preening its chest. It cocked its little head at Obi-Wan and flitted away. Obi-Wan sighed and turned back to the spilt food. Levitation spells, after all, burned through energy like crazy.


	8. Chapter 8

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 8

Ahsoka Tano was having a biscuit with jelly. And some mulled wine but she was not really supposed to partake so she figured her best option was to Not Think About It so her master didn't come flying in on one of his self-righteous stances where he derided her ability to breath on her own let alone make repainted decisions.

It wasn't fair. She knew for a fact that he had been much worse.

She checked the simmering pot on the cast iron stove to see how the wine was coming. It was drafty on any given day in the castle, but today she had heard thunder so loud, it had sounded like it was coming from somewhere inside. She tested the wine with a long wooden spoon, delicately licking the end to check the temperature.

There was a sudden pressure in the air, as happened when two Force-sensitives were battling each other. That was odd. She knew her master was in residence, which was why she needed such care with the training bond, but who would he be sparring with? She popped her ears. Whoever it was, the power they were negligently kicking off was giving her a headache.

She took a bite of her biscuit. Then again, if someone else was sparring with Master then maybe she could get the day off. Though the exercise would warm her up. She felt another strange kick of energy and emotion along the training bond and so she enforced her own shielding a bit more.

She suddenly wondered if it had been thunder. She chewed slowly as she considered what else it could have been.

She checked the wine again. It was delightfully warm. She ladled up a cup and settled on a stool next to the fire. Yeah that was the stuff! She hummed to herself as she idly sensed along the training bond. She dropped her cup, spilling hot wine over her hand. For a second it felt like she wasn't sensing just her master but someone else as well all entangled with him.

She shook her hand and sucked on the webbing between thumb and hand that got the worse burn. She was looking out the window when the sound of wind picked up again. Except not a single leaf or blade of grass stirred. She frowned and turned her eyes towards the stairs and the east wing where she knew her master had gone sometime earlier that morning with a tray of cheese and fruit.

What was going on?

Then her master was barreling down the stairs, a veritable storm cloud of displeasure twisting his brow. Ahsoka's eyes widened and she jumped up into the window using the slightest aide from the Force. She had one leg out the window and was only hesitating slightly at the drop. This window faced into the courtyard instead of the ravine in the back but it was still probably a good nine feet down.

"Snips!" her master snarled.

"Hey, Skyguy! Didn't, ah, see you coming," she said. It was a bit of a long drop. She swung herself back into the kitchen and dusted off her skirts.

"It's ANAKIN!"

She raised her brows and twisted her hands into her skirts. "Ah, last time I called you that, you said I was being disrespectful." She chose not to mention the vicious 'training' session that followed and ended with Ahsoko staring dazedly up at the clouds drifting through the endless blue sky, her broadsword, knocked from her hands, lying somewhere above her head.

Master Skywalker shook his head, his mouth a moue of frustration. "I know what I said."

"So you know you sound crazy?"

"Snips!" he warned.

She held up her hands placatingly. "All right, easy Skyguy. Obviously someone's been twisting your breeches. Wanna talk about it?"

She was being flippant. She knew that. She thought Master Skywalker knew that. Except he was looking in the corner of the room, a slight blush on his cheeks. "Yes," he said, then strolled over to her pot of mulled wine and helped himself to a cup.

"You can't be serious? I wasn't being serious!" she squawked.

He didn't say a word as he took a seat at the small table next to the fireplace and motioned for her to take to the other.

She rolled her eyes and sat. He took a sip of wine and made a face as he stared at the cup. "I'll expect twenty laps around the castle. You know you aren't allowed wine." He took another sip. "On foot," he added.

Really. Just because that one time she took the fastest horse in the stable. She was being clever, using her head—thinking outside the box. She thought he would have appreciated it. (She thinks he did. But he felt obligated or something to do his duty as a master and try to teach her something about respect and duty). Whatever.

"If I'm already being punished, does that mean I can have another cup?" she asked.

He twirled a finger at the pot, a slight upwards tilt at the corner of his mouth. "Sure go ahead," he said.

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes at him. First he starts shouting for her to call him Anakin and now he is letting her have wine?

"I'll even get you a cup," he said.

And within a breath a cup sat on the table in front of her. She poked it. Skyguy looked disinterested. "Well, I figure you've put up with me long enough that you wouldn't bother with poison," she said and took a gulp.

And spat it back out. Skyguy had a full-blown smile. "How did you do that? Why?!" she whined. It was beef broth. She hated beef broth.

"If you're going to tell me you don't know how to do such a basic transmutation, we need to review your classroom work."

"I know how you do it—but I didn't see you!"

He laughed and leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "Which is why I'm the master."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, master, what did you want to talk about?"

She took the slightest bit of satisfaction that that wiped the smile from his face. She propped her chin on her hands and fluttered her eyelashes. Haha.

He scowled and leaned back in his chair, rocking it back on two legs until it leaned against the wall. He ran one hand through his tangled hair. "How do I get someone to like me?" he asked.

Ahsoka stared. "You're…fairly likable," she started slowly. "I mean you can be tough but that's good because otherwise I would never learn anything, being as contrary as I am at times. But I like you. Are you worried that I don't like you? Maybe I'm a little bitter about that time you almost took my hand off during practice—I mean really, Skyguy, it was practice, I think you got a little carried away—"

He dropped his chairs back to all four legs with a bang. "Snips, I'm not talking about you."

"Oh." She narrowed her eyes, watching her master's face closely. He wasn't looking at her, instead he nervously picked at a hangnail. His face had gone slack and—sad. "Why do you care? Doesn't seem like anything that has ever bothered you before."

"Because he's mine!" he hissed, his eyes limned in gold.

It was Ahsoka's turn to lean back. "Right. So this is about Kenobi," she said, remembering the post-battle rants where sneaky Kenobi—with his damned beard, and damned eyes, and damned perfect mouth, etc.—had yet again eluded capture. More like sultry Kenobi with the way Skyguy would go on. There was also the weird bit about how their auras _called_ to each other. "And if you are even a bit serious about the liking, not acting like you own him is probably going to be a pretty solid first step."

She blinked rapidly. "Have you captured Kenobi? Is that the weird power blasts I've been feeling through the Force today?"

Master Skywalker picked at a loose bit of wood on the table. "He's upstairs."

"How?!"

"My master arranged it," he said.

"Whoa, whoa. You're telling me Sidious wanted you to do this? Doesn't that raise some warning flags for you at all?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Master Sidious, padawan," he corrected.

"He's not my master," she sneered.

Master Skywalker was up in an instant, a billow of magic visibly flooding the air until everything in the room was covered, Ahsoka included. She daren't breathe.

With a snap of his fingers, the entire cloud glowed golden before disappearing. He slammed a hand down on the back of her chair, pinning her in as he got in her face. "I'll not have you dead Snips because you are too careless to hold your tongue! Did you even think to do a spy charm?"

"Master Sidious wouldn't…" she faltered.

"Wouldn't spy on me in my own castle? That's not a risk I'm willing to take. And you're foolish to think otherwise. He barely tolerates you as it is. I thought I had made that clear."

Ahsoka sulked, a bit hurt by his harsh words. "Well, if I'm so foolish, I best get to those laps then," she snapped, practically spitting in Master Skywalker's face.

He actually rolled his eyes. "Stop it Snips. It's only because I care." She felt the smallest flash of warmth in her chest at that.

Master Skywalker dropped back into his chair and put his head in his hands. "You're…not wrong. He had told me to put aside my…"

"Infatuation?" she volunteered.

He shot her a glare but nodded. "He wanted Obi-Wan dead up until a few weeks ago."

She couldn't stop herself from grinning. "Obi-Wan?" she asked.

Skyguy blushed and averted his eyes. "That's Kenobi's first name."

"Yeah, I figured."

They sat in silence for a moment. Ahsoka found her mind running in happy little circles of the idea of Master Skywalker trying to—to _woo_ Kenobi. He wanted him to _like_ him. How adorable.

That's when Skyguy sighed. "I think I've made a mistake."

Ahsoka's eyes widened. The last time he had admitted to a mistake, half of their base was on fire and the other half was being attacked by mother-loving dragons. The fire had been courtesy of the dragons. The dragons Skyguy had brought in as a new tactic to attack the Republic and their hypocritically evil regime. She hated that they thought they were the _good_ guys. When they let slavery continue to flourish in dark allies and distant outer rim parishes. Master Skywalker himself bore scars around his neck and wrists. Ahsoka gave her own a bitter rub.

She gave herself a mental shake. "Something on fire?" she couldn't resist asking.

"Snips!"

"Right, well, I've regretted saying this once today so let's go for two: wanna talk about it?"

He drummed his fingers on the table, that one muscle that twitched in his jaw when he was frustrated pulsing away. He opened his mouth once, shut it, went back to drumming his fingers.

The chair screeched on the flagstone when he turned to face her fully again. "So Obi-Wan broke all the restrictor spells I put on him." He held up a hand to stop her sputter of protest. "And I know that just locking him up wasn't going to be enough to keep him here so I…"

The hairs were up on the back of Ahsoka's neck. Nobody just threw off Master Skywalker's spells. Well, Sidious, but he was powerful. A dick, but even she would admit he was powerful. Could Kenobi really…?

"…and then he was said that he'd never trust me and that _killed_ me inside and now I—"

"Whoa sorry, did you say he threw off your spells?"

He stared at her and then, frowning, flicked her on the forehead. She threw herself into the back of her chair and rubbed at her forehead. "Ow, really?"

"Pay attention."

"Pretty sure you already told me the mind-blowing bit," she grumbled. She was wrong.

"You tried to bind him?! Like as in—in _forcing_ him?" she whispered. "Like dark-evil-Sith-type binding?"

"Yes!" he cried, on his feet and pacing in front of the fireplace. "What do I do!?"

"Well you definitely made a mistake," she said.

He threw his arms over his head. "Snips!"

"Ah, you know what, you're the master, and I think this is a little bit like the dragon situation. Not much I can do, the situation is burning to the ground, I have some laps to run, and then sword practice, I'm pretty sure I'm due some more sword practice…"

Master Skwalker was staring at her. "Will you talk to him for me?"

She laughed. "Ahaha. No. Though you probably should. Talk to him I mean."

With a sudden harsh curse, Skyguy had dropped the conversation and was running back to the stairs. "He's jumped out the window. I think I'm going to need your help!"

There were certain tones of voice her master used that she knew better than to ignore. This was one of them. Ahsoka hurried fast on his heels. Even as she ran though, she wondered, _how does he know Kenobi jumped out the window_? And on the tail of that, _why would Kenobi jump into the ravine?_

****Author's note: the way this scene originally played out in my head was like—

Ahsoka: (eats her Wheaties)

Anakin: (sits on opposite side of table) …how do I have good sex with a man?

Ahsoka: (after choking on Wheaties) Nope! (runs)


	9. Chapter 9

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 9

So maybe Obi-Wan had overestimated his reserves. Even drawing on the Force, he had only made it just past the base of the castle wall. Which in most castles would have been fine. Except this one was built on the side of a freaking mountain.

He adjusted his handhold on the cliff face he was clinging to. His fingers were still trembling, though the cause was wholly different. Though perhaps not that different; in the privacy of his mind, he knew he was still afraid, though now the fear was falling.

He glanced down at the precipitous drop. Right bad idea. He had already spent several moments looking along the wall base to see if there was any kind of footpath he could slink along to safer ground. It seemed like the safest bet but he couldn't pick out a path from where he clung. If there was one, it would take all his skills and more than a touch of magic to maneuver it.

It was the soft too-familiar touch of Skywalker's magic surrounding him that had him dredging up another trickle of magic to push it viciously away. But with the mental effort, his hand slipped and he shouted as he fell. His feet caught on a small protuberance and with only with a desperate lunge, his back arched for balance and his arms stretched as far as they could go that he managed to snag a new handhold. As he panted against the cliff face, he realized that the scream echoing around the ravine wasn't his alone.

Looking up, he could just make out the shape of a figure peering down from the window he had jumped out of. Then there was a voice speaking directly into his ear. He clamped his shoulders to his ears in reflex. A long-distance charm.

"You have to let me help you!"

"I think I'm better where I am, Sith." He felt the tickle of magic again and slammed along the bond, intent on causing hurt. The touch abruptly withdrew. He had had some time to think about the bond, and whatever its nature, Obi-wan was relatively sure that he could fight off Skywalker indefinitely.

Suddenly a girl's voice resounded across the charm, apparently still intact. And she sounded sassy. "Oh for the love of—would you _move_ and let me?"

Obi-Wan found himself plucked off the cliff face and he was helpless to stop his upward float back to the window. He should have waited longer before trying to escape.

(But he had worried Skywalker would return first. His unspoken promise broken in fit of impatience. A lurid image of Skywalker moving against him, thighs entangled and cut off gasps escaping both their lips.)

He gave his head a shake. It was Skywalker who pulled him back through the window. The Sith wasted no time grasping him around the wrists, yanking him further into the room. Obi-Wan considered weighed the consequences of just jumping out the window, no magic to stop his fall.

"Don't…!" Skywalker's tone was etched through with what sounded like genuine worry. "Ahsoka!" Then Obi-Wan was promptly shoved into a teenaged girl with white tattoos across her forehead and down her cheeks. She also looked faintly orange and had the weirdest headdress.

A Togrutan? Out of the Shili Mountains? So not a headdress but sensitive montrals. He thought the Togrutans mostly kept to themselves. There was Shaak Ti with the Council back in the Republic, but otherwise Obi-Wan had never met a Togrutan out of visits to their home mountain range.

"Yeah, don't stare so much old man," she said and pushed the pad of her thumb against his forehead. He backpedaled straight into Skywalker's chest, a tingling of black magic crawling through his head. It wasn't a restrictor spell, exactly, but it was having a similar effect. "That ought to do it."

Skywalker had wrapped his arms around his chest. Obi-Wan was too dizzy to do anything but pluck at the sleeve of the Sith's robe. "Let go of me," he tried, not wanting to be close to him at all. To his surprise, Skywalker huffed and set him gently on the edge of the bed.

Obi-Wan rubbed at his head. "What is this sorcery?" he grumbled.

Again to his surprise, he got a response, this time from the Togrutan girl. "It's designed to block your body from using magic instead of blocking you from using the Force." She sounded very satisfied, as if she had invented herself.

"I invented it myself," she said proudly.

Ah.

"Is the dizziness normal then?" he asked.

Judging from the sudden concern on her face, he was guessing no.

"Relax Snips. It's because he's exhausted his reserves. He didn't realize how badly because he was still tapping into the Force, as we all do."

Obi-Wan turned a wary eye towards Skywalker where he leaned against the wall next to the window. Apparently he caught him looking and with a deep grimace turned and—with a grating rumble the window was gone, now solid stone.

"You know it's probably not helping holding him prisoner."

He kept his eyes on Skywalker who had focused all his formidable attention on the girl he called 'Snips.' Skywalker's mouth was slightly ajar, his eyebrows inching up into his hairline. Obi-Wan flickered his gaze to 'Snips.'

She was rocking on her heels, fidgeting with her skirts. And she was smirking. Was she _teasing_ Skywalker?

"I think you should also try an apology."

The room darkened. "I do not apologize!"

Obi-Wan dropped his aching head into his hands. "Why, because you have nothing to apologize for?" Obi-Wan snarked, shocking himself with his sass.

The girl's clear laughter echoed in the room and shredded the darkness like sunlight into shadow. "Aw, he's knows you so well already," she said, still laughing. It was enough to startle Obi-Wan into looking back up. "How about this?" She pointed at Skywalker. "You obviously don't want to leave Kenobi in here alone," she turned slightly and pointed at Obi-Wan, "and you obviously need to eat something and at the same time don't want to be alone with Skyguy here. So why don't we all go have a nice dinner down in the banquet hall." She flashed a cheeky grin his way. Sassy didn't even begin to cover it.

And Skyguy? Obi-Wan filed away the strange nickname.

He looked at Skywalker who was again standing with mouth gaped open, arms crossed. He switched his focus from the girl to him and abruptly snapped his mouth shut, that muscle in his jaw going. "I already offered him supper," he finally ground out. His eyes smoldered as he threw a challenging glare Obi-Wan's way, as if daring him to deny it.

Obi-Wan looked back at the girl. Her smile had faded, her fidgeting stilled. "Well, you didn't tell me that there would be a lady's company I'd be disappointing," Obi-Wan said. "And you still haven't offered me any clothes."

"He's a _terrible_ host, isn't he?" the girl gushed, and then she was by his side, pulling him up by his arm. Her touch was blessedly innocent, charged with no emotion, connection, or burning warmth. Her hand was in fact a little on the cool side. No doubt from this drafty castle.

Plus this was a game Obi-Wan was used to playing. He knew he had not been selected for negotiating the peace treaty just because of his track record with Skywalker. He could turn a pretty phrase when needed.

"Never fear, I won't doubt _your_ skills as hostess. Lead on, my lady." She positively beamed when he straightened only to offer her his arm. Obi-Wan didn't realize until that moment how badly he was missing a friendly face. Even if she was the reason his head was spinning.

Despite the shields they had both thrown up against it, Obi-Wan could feel the pulse of dark jealousy along the bond. He glanced over his shoulder at Skywalker. And as angry and scared of this man as he had become in the last hours, he recognized the bereft-ness on Skywalker's face.

"Coming then, Anakin?" he said. An olive branch.

Skywalker looked as if he had been smacked with a frying pan.

"I'll go alert the kitchen staff," he stuttered. Obi-Wan really didn't know what to make of the fact that he was blushing as he sped out the door ahead of them.

"Right, let's get you something to wear!"

"Your name again, my dear?" he asked.

"Ahsoka. Ahsoka Tano."

"Pleased to meet you Ahsoka Tano."

"Nice to finally meet you too, Obi-Wan Kenobi," she said. She had a devilish smirk on her face as she said it, the word choice and use of his full name obviously deliberate.

Which left Obi-Wan to wonder how she knew his name and why she would have been waiting to meet him.


	10. Chapter 10

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 10

The Senate was due to meet in an hour. Chancellor Palpatine would have to be there, Darth Sidious knew. But he could spare some time yet. He flipped again through the book he had received so generously from Quinlan Vos. The connection between his apprentice and General Kenobi was proving more interesting than originally thought.

He had counselled young Skywalker to capture Kenobi after their first encounter. The influx of…power…that his apprentice described was understandably desirable to the Dark Lord. But a soul bond? The very nature of it complicated matters.

Young Skywalker had always been passionate. It had given the boy great strength and made him a very useful tool. But should that passion turn to love, as this book suggested soul bonds were wont to do, it became a weakness.

Like that Ahsoka brat. Sidious had allowed Skywalker to train and raise the girl when she had been discovered in the mountains, abandoned by her parents to slavers. But she was just leverage to use against his own apprentice as his powers grew. Skywalker would not risk stepping out of line because he knew Sidious would not exact recompense from him but from the girl.

But the weakness of love wasn't leverage Sidious alone could use. And therein lie the danger. Why, Kenobi himself could very well snatch his apprentice away from him. After all his years of planning from the shadows to bring the Republic to its knees, he wasn't about to be tripped up by some asinine child's story.

He considered the book again. The problem being it wasn't just a child's story. As a Sith he had read in his own studies of the infamous Darth Revan and Darth Malek. The two had been a force to be reckoned with. The Sith's accounts, however, never explained Darth Revan's unprecedented return to the light. But now Sidious had the answer. A soul bond. To a Jedi no less. How despicably ironic.

Malek's idea of overcoming his master by manipulation of the bond wasn't a useless idea, but his execution had been poor.

' _After the capture of Bastila Shan, Darth Revan's rage could not be contained. He tore apart Malek's castle with the just the power of his mind, leaving every person inside dead. When he discovered that Malek had already fled with his soulmate Bastila, the Dark Lord swore destruction on his former apprentice's head, and a curse of the pain of a thousand deaths._

 _In the final confrontation between the two, Malek threatened to kill Bastila which further incited Revan's rage. Mount Mustafar, still an active volcano to this day, was a result of the heavy Force-frenzied magic that passed between the two that day. As it happened, it also became Malek's grave._

 _Revan thought himself victorious. Little did he know that the real struggle of his life was about to begin. Now he had to seek forgiveness and atonement from his soulmate for those he murdered for simply being in his way at the wrong time. His blatant use of the Dark Side that allowed him to save her was damning, as he had promised Bastila to renounce the dark arts only a few short months before her capture.'_

Sidious tossed the book away with disgust. That such a mighty Sith had so easily given into the demands of a Jedi bitch, renounced all that he achieved, all that he was…

His apprentice had spoken with similar longing for Kenobi. Sidious sneered. He should've killed Kenobi instead of sending him straight into his apprentice's arms! His apprentice would unleash all furies if he were to try to harm the Jedi general now—or take him away. At least that is what this book suggested.

Perhaps Skywalker and Kenobi had not formed such a deep connection yet? After all, Bastila had anchored Revan to the living through her own life force, tightening and amplifying the connection that already existed between the two.

And then a thought occurred to Sidious. Bastila Shan had been the Jedi, Darth Revan the Sith. She had bound him to her to save his life, resulting in Darth Revan being drawn back into the light. What if…what if the situation could be reversed? What if the Sith bound the Jedi?

He mused over the possibilities.

Could Kenobi be turned? Skywalker's powers would grow exponentially, and he would have no vendetta against him, as Revan had to Malek. Kenobi was powerful and clever in his own right. As a new servant of darkness—yes, yes, he could see it. Kenobi and Skywalker bowed at his feet as he ruled as the new Emperor of a great Sith empire—one that would far outlive the paltry efforts of Revan and Malek.

But how to ensure it happened? It had been chance that Bastila and Revan had both been on the same battlefield when the deadly blow was landed to Revan. But then Sidious excelled at making his own 'chances.'

He smiled darkly, bringing up one gnarled old hand to rest his head against as he continued to weigh and discard ideas. The easiest move would be to command his apprentice to force a binding. Sith bindings were…crude, but effective. The nature of the sex, with one completely and cruelly dominating the other, created a power imbalance that let the caster hold complete sway over the victim, where the bound could not disobey or even leave their new master's side if they did not wish it. Forced physical submission with the power of the Dark Side bound the soul to the same.

He suspected his apprentice would balk but acknowledge the logic. Kenobi was unpredictable, Kenobi had escaped him before, Kenobi must be made to _submit_ …

He could see that appealing to his mercurial apprentice. His obsession had grown more and more palpable which each successive encounter with the Jedi. Sidious _had_ considered arranging Kenobi's death after hearing his apprentice wax poetic about the Jedi's eyes.

…perhaps he could send a third party to kidnap the kidnapped. That would raise Skywalker's ire and thus his power. He would, perhaps, be blinded by need to protect Kenobi and that could trigger the bond in favor of the Sith over Jedi. Or simplify it still further—an assassin to mortally wound Kenobi so that Sith would save Jedi, thus reversing the roles from the story of Revan and Bastila.

The problem with both of those ideas though was loose ends. Sidious had resources and surely he could bring about an attack on Kenobi that could not be traced back to him—but all of that took time. If the two were indeed soul bounded, they were now in constant contact and the bond may develop…adversely…long before Sidious could enact his plans.

He rubbed his temples. That couldn't be allowed to happen. It was bad enough the effect Ahsoka had had on his apprentice. Despite being trained in the dark arts herself, the girl had had an unusual 'lightening' effect on Skywalker; he cared about her, and through her his compassion had grown. He cared more about humanitarian causes now and sought not just power but also justice. Granted Skywalker's view of justice was still delightfully skewed, but add Kenobi into the mix…

He sat up. Perhaps a plan with two objectives was the best path forward. An ultimatum after a fashion.

Where Skywalker could choose to continue having Ahsoka as his apprentice—or he could have Kenobi as his apprentice instead. Then it was a simple matter to get Skywalker to come to the only solution where he could have both. And where Sidious got exactly what he wanted.

There was a gentle tap on the door. "Sir?" a voice called.

"Yes, come in, dear boy," he said.

A squire stumbled into the room, adjusting the ridiculous hat that had fallen over one eye. "The Senate has assembled and awaits your presence sir!"

"Well, then we best not keep them waiting." Darth Sidious stood gracefully from his chair and strolled over to the mantle. He checked his reflection in the mirror. Chancellor Palpatine smiled back.

He trusted there would still be time to contact his apprentice after the Senate session.


	11. Chapter 11

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 11

Anakin was unsure of what to make of the situation.

On the one hand, it made him happy to watch Obi-Wan and Snips bicker back and forth. On the other hand—well, he wanted to whisk Obi-Wan off on horseback to some secluded cottage where he could just look into Obi-Wan's quicksilver eyes, the glow of candlelight flickering around them, maybe a little elf playing a harp in the corner…

He gave himself a visible shake. What was he thinking? Obi-Wan gave him power. That was what mattered. That was the focus. He only wanted him willingly at his side to ease the process. It would be better for both of them and therefore better for him. His stomach still ached from the fear and pain that had flared along their bond when he had pinned the older man to the bed, the absolute nausea that he still wasn't sure had been his or Obi-Wan's.

Obi-Wan laughed at something Ahsoka said. Anakin's chest felt funny.

He turned back to his soup, but all he could see was the image of the Jedi with his head thrown back, showcasing the graceful lines of his neck, the flash of white teeth in a grin, the firelight accenting his auburn hair. He curled a hand around his spoon, knuckles momentarily white before he forced himself to relax. He sipped carefully, as if drinking soup was his life goal and required all his formidable attention.

They were in the banquet hall. Fine carpets covered most of the stone floor. Draperies hung along the walls helped cut the chill of the stone and warm the room. A great fireplace accented the north wall, a large fire crackling away merrily. The large ornate dining table ran in front of the fireplace. The three of them were clustered on the west end, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka sitting with their backs to the fire. For all that Snips elbow was practically on his dinner plate, Anakin felt alone at the head of the table. He took another careful sip of soup.

"So then Skyguy decided that the best option was to jump right into the nest of gundarks to try to save the little guy!" Ahsoka waved her arms for emphasis. "I mean big powerful wizard, all the Force at his beck and call, and instead he decided that he must sacrifice himself as bait to distract the gundarks from a little baby nexu!"

"Don't nexus grow up to be terribly dangerous and ferocious?" Obi-Wan asked. The firelight made his face soft, the small smile on his face discordant from the usual, clenched-jaw expression Anakin was used to whenever they had met on the battlefield. He wanted him to look his way. Instead his attention stayed focused solely on his apprentice. He sipped his soup.

"Exactly! Large and dangerous and ferocious."

Anakin clenched his spoon. "It was defenseless," he mumbled.

"It was gundarks! And a nexu! Nature happens!" Ahsoka cried.

Anakin barely heard her. Obi-Wan was looking at him, mouth slightly agape, still the barest hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. In the firelight, his eyes were dark, like a lake under the moonlight. Anakin took a deep breath, checking his shields against the bond and subtly scanning around him for any spellwork. He suspected an enchantment. Perhaps Obi-Wan had figured out how to get past Ahsoka's sorcery after all.

"Why would you care if it was defenseless?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin stared. "Why wouldn't I care?" he threw back.

"Because you're a Sith!" Obi-Wan said, his gaze challenging.

Ahsoka snorted. "Maybe the dark side isn't what you think it is," she said.

"And what do you mean by that?" Obi-Wan asked.

"She means that it isn't just about power. There's also strength and passion and being able to protect the things that truly matter!" Anakin wasn't entirely sure when he had gotten to his feet, both hands on the table as he leaned forward.

"You Jedi and your Republic—constantly preaching about your precious democracy and how you do what is best for the greater good. Where was the greater good when I spent my childhood in chains with a whip on my back?" Ahsoka tentatively touched his arm, a whisper of comfort coming along their bond. He brushed it off.

"Where was the greater good when my mother was taken from me? Where!" He slammed a fist on the table, the visage of his mother, bruised and bloodied at the hands of the Tusken Raiders of the Southern Desert swimming before his eyes. The Republic had always let the Tuskens do as they pleased, no matter how many honest farmers and unfortunate slaves they had drug off to their homes for a sacrificial death.

Obi-Wan was on his feet as well. "Don't you dare lecture me on justice! Not when you've started a war! Not when you've wreaked havoc on every corner of this land! Not when you've killed people I grew up with, who I considered family!"

"I've started a war to bring down you hypocrites! To bring justice to the slaves, and make the senators and Jedi answer for their lavish lifestyles while so many live in squalor!"

"Are you insane? Slavery is _illegal_. The Council and Senate have always strived for quality of life for everyone—"

"Do you think legality mattered to those who sold me?" He gestured violently at his apprentice. "Those who sold Ahsoka?"

Obi-Wan had stopped and was just looking at him again. The smile was completely gone. Anakin hated that he missed it.

He could sense the distress pouring off of Ahsoka; she didn't want them to fight. And he could sense the weariness and sorrow from Obi-Wan even through the shields, and it made him waver. His throat felt tight. He didn't want to be fighting either.

Like a felled tree, Obi-Wan dropped into his chair, cradling his head in his hands. Anakin could hear him muttering, "This can't be the reality of it," and he wondered what the Jedi meant.

"Oh my," a voice murmured from the doorway leading back to the kitchen. Anakin rolled his eyes.

He tried to lighten his tone to sound more polite, cajoling even. "Yes Threepio?"

"Well Master Anakin, we were about ready to bring in the main course but now I'm not so sure it is a good time…?" A gold-plated automaton, average human-sized, that he had spent a great deal of time building and enchanting himself, peaked its head with its glowing eyes into the banquet hall.

Ahsoka was on her feet, shoving at his shoulders, urging him to sit back down. "Nope, nope! Now would be a great time. Is Artoo with you? Bring it out little guy!" There was a series of beeps and twirling whistles as another automaton, this one shaped a bit like a rounded metal barrel rolled towards them, trays balanced on its dome head by thin metallic arms.

She leaned in to catch his gaze. "I think we all want to relax and just continue on with dinner—right?" Her eyes were pleading. Anakin sat back down.

"Well excellent!" Threepio exclaimed. "It would have been a shame to waste such fine quality cuisine. Now if you'll just allow me to remove these soup bowls, I think you'll find you'll very much enjoy what the chef has prepared. The gundark meat has been expertly tenderized and marinated—"

"Gundark?!" Obi-Wan barked. He was watching both automatons with the same sort of awe he had when they had presented the first course. Anakin couldn't help the faintest tendril of pride from flickering through his chest. He liked that look of awe on Obi-Wan, especially when it was because of something he had done.

"Why yes sir! I'm told that when paired with these Corellian tubers, it creates quite the symphony of flavor and—"

"And yadda, yadda, yadda. Let a girl eat in peace Threepio!" Ahsoka called. Anakin raised his brows at her. Obviously she was trying to pretend like the recent outburst had not happened. Part of him was willing to do just that, but did she have to interrupt Threepio? He'd be hearing about it for days…

Threepio was already ratcheting out of the room, the mechanic whir of his joints a funny backdrop to his muttered, "why I never" and "how terribly rude." Artoo beeped and honked as if saying "what can you do?" before trundling after him.

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was staring at his plate, like he expected something to crawl off it. Anakin shrugged and dug in. Gundark was good.

"Perhaps it would be best if I just retire for the night."

Anakin carefully placed his fork back by his plate. He took his napkin and dabbed at his lips. "You'll finish your dinner," he said. A log slipped in the fire. It crackled loudly, a few sparks skittering across the hearth stones.

Obi-Wan glared at him. Anakin stared coolly back. He ached to see him smile again.

"I'm sorry, I've had a bit of a stressful day, and I'm afraid it has ruined my appetite." Obi-Wan's speech was stiff and formal, not soft and easy as it had been when he had talked with Ahsoka. Anakin's throat burned.

"Hey, master, I can escort him—"

"NO!" Anakin snarled. He stabbed a bit of gundark and stuck it in his mouth, chewing methodically. Ahsoka wasn't eating either. Her hands stroked her left montral, her eyes focused on her plate. He set his own fork down, frustrated that the entire situation had turned so sour…

It was then that he felt his own connection with his master flare. Ahsoka's eyes were on him immediately, no doubt sensing the summons herself. He resented it even as he knew he had best answer it with due haste.

It felt as if the floor had dropped away on the entire evening. He signaled Ahsoka with a quick twirl of his finger. "Take him back to his room." Obi-Wan glanced at him, surprise obvious on his face. "Quickly."

Ahsoka hurried Obi-Wan back towards the kitchen and the stairs. Anakin watched them go, his jaw clenched tight. Not how he had wanted the evening to end at all. Just before they disappeared through the door, Obi-Wan looked back. Anakin shuddered out an exhale as a tentative probe slipped along their bond against his shields. And he found he was sharply reminded of that baby nexu crying out in terror as the gundarks approached and how it hadn't mattered that it, too, would be dangerous to him someday, he had to save it.

It had been his to save.

Obi-Wan disappeared though the doorway and the probe, whatever its purpose, retreated with him. Anakin found himself chasing after it only to slam into the shields Obi-Wan had thrown up against their bond. He turned his head away from the door.

Anakin walked quickly to the fire. He kept a tin of black spice on the mantle and quickly threw a pinch in, making the fire belch and roar. When it settled, a flickering visage of Darth Sidious could be made out amongst the flames. Anakin kneeled. "What is thy bidding my master?"

He worked desperately to still his mind as he felt Darth Sidious reach across their training bond. "You are unusually troubled tonight my apprentice. Tell me what ails you."

Anakin parted his lips as he stared at the hearthstones. He didn't know what to say. It had never been a burden before for him to talk about Kenobi, but now that he held him prisoner, had seen the look of fear and betrayal on his face, had seen him smile and laugh…

He shook his head. "I don't know how to explain, master."

"Then open yourself to me," Sidious purred. Anakin's stomach churned. It had never alarmed him so much to do it before. He found himself layering extra shields over his connection to Kenobi before he carefully opened up the training bond to his master.

As always it felt like an invasion. Sidious had reassured him that it was normal and that he just needed to stay relaxed. He questioned sometimes if it was. Ahsoka had not once complained about a similar sensation when they had communed over their training bond. But he had never asked either, afraid of the answer, afraid that he made her feel as violated as Sidious made him feel.

"Hmm. Your feelings betray you, my apprentice. Kenobi blinds you from your goals."

"Yes master," he murmured. He kept his eyes firmly down. He could feel the muscles in his jaw spasming from clenching his teeth together.

"You must remember that our objective is to bring down this corrupted Republic and bring justice and order to the land. I sent Kenobi to you as a source of power, nothing more."

Anakin's brow furrowed. He _knew_ that. He didn't think otherwise. What was his master sensing from him that he felt the need to state it?

"I can sense the bond between you two now…it has grown. Kenobi uses it against you. And yet you block it from me. Why?"

"Because he's mine!" Anakin hissed, daring eye contact with the fiery visage of his master.

"Is he?"

Anakin dropped his eyes, blinking rapidly. He _should_ be. He could feel it in his bones, in his _soul_ …but he wasn't. Obi-Wan fought him at every turn. Already his spells were rendered null if used against the Jedi. Already he had attempted one escape. His master was right.

"It would be simple enough to…bind him to you, would it not?" Sidious murmured.

Anakin fell back into a sitting position, head turned away from the fire. "I can't," he growled, "I…tried already."

"My dear boy, surely you can. I can't imagine you would find it difficult."

How could he explain that it had felt like ripping into his own heart? His master would see it as a weakness. Perhaps that's exactly what it was…

"Then bind him to you as an apprentice," Sidious said, voice sly. "A training bond would surely be enough to keep him under control."

Anakin's snapped his gaze to Sidious's face. It flickered with the crackle of the flames. That was not a solution at all. "Master, I already have an apprentice. I couldn't support two training bonds."

"Ah I see. Then you will need to make a decision, won't you?"

Anakin wavered. What was his master suggesting? Sith didn't just break training bonds. The bond remained, whether dormant or active, until one of the pair died—or was killed. Ahsoka's face flashed in his memory, happy smile as she took a bite of jelly-covered biscuit. Then he thought of Obi-Wan, that grin as he had laughed at Ahsoka's story. It was a knife in his heart. He craved it.

A dark whisper through his thoughts—how dare Obi-Wan smile for another? Black rage surged through his heart. Obi-Wan should only smile for him.

But Ahsoka was his too. Confusion roiled in his mind. "Master I can't…"

"You will do what you must!" Soothing dark tendrils twisted through his mind. Anakin felt foggy. He shook his head. "Is it really such a hard decision?"

"No, my master," he murmured and bowed his head. They were both his. So he would keep them both. By whatever means necessary.


	12. Chapter 12

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 12

Senator Padme Naberrie Amidala did not like how the latest Senate session had gone at all. She made a point to keep her face impassive as she briskly walked from the Senate chambers towards her quarters in the south wing.

Why had Chancellor Palpatine urged to hold the cease fire when General Skywalker had so obviously violated the terms by taking General Kenobi prisoner? She wouldn't begin to pretend that she understood the wizards in their ways. But that was one of the reasons that the Senate and the Council operated separately—so that each could make decisions that made sense to their world view. Granted the Council had long ago agreed to defer to the Senate to keep their powers in check, but surely Council and Senate would agree that end of the cease fire and immediate rescue attempt were what the current situation warranted?

She could still remember the way Master Wizard Windu's nostrils had flared when Chancellor Palpatine had said that there was no solid evidence that General Kenobi had been captured by the Separatists. She had never dreamed to see Windu look so shocked and frustrated.

So many of the senators, sick of the war, had agreed readily to maintaining the cease fire. They didn't care if the motivations were suspect. They only cared that the fighting had stopped. Reaching her chambers, she nodded at the two hand maidens as they opened the heavy oaken door, allowing her to slip inside.

Bail Organa was already there. So was Mon Mothma. "Senators?" she said. She stepped forward giving both a cursory kiss on the cheek. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's alright Padme, we've already swept the room for listening spells," Bail said. He strolled to her small liquor cabinet and helped himself to a chaser of brandy.

Padme huffed and slipped off the heavy headdress she had worn for the session. It never hurt to dress to make an impression. "Well, I'll start then by saying why are we not sending a rescue mission after General Kenobi?"

Mon Mothma sat on the velvet-covered chaise next to the window. "I do find it unusual and troubling," she said as she gazed out into the courtyard. "The longer this war goes on, the stranger some things seem."

Padme nodded, eyes flickering between Bail and Mon. The three had started meeting after Senate sessions a few years after Chancellor Palpatine got elected. Sometimes there was less of democracy and more of dictatorship in how the current chancellor ran the Republic. It had been risky but a relief to find those who felt the same.

She knew that at least Bail (if not Mon as well) also considered General Kenobi a personal friend. Obi-Wan had helped save her home city of Naboo when she had still been but a girl. Bail had personally been on several campaigns with the wizard.

Bail threw back his brandy. "Regardless of lack of evidence of who did it, no one should have disputed Commanders Cody and Rex's testimony of dark wizardy being involved. I'm starting to think the majority of the Senate has been enchanted!"

"Perhaps it is time that we took matters into our own hands," Mon said. She was still staring out the window.

"What are you suggesting?" Padme said, turning fully towards her friend.

Mon Mothma looked so much older than she was as she turned weary eyes to Padme. "Maybe some of the principles of the Separatists have merit."

At least she wasn't beating around the bush.

"Senator Mothma, are you suggesting…rebellion?" Bail hissed, setting the tumbler down on the desk.

"Forgive me, no, I am weary."

Padme and Bail shared a look. Chandrila, Mon's home city, had been one of the most recent victims of Skywalker and his Separatists. Chandrila had been captured, but there hadn't been a high death count, something that Skywalker did seem to be unusually consistent about throughout the war. Had she received word of a personal loss?

"I, for one, still believe in democracy." She stared hard at Mon's slumped form. "But maybe that is not what we are supporting anymore."

Mon looked up again. Bail gave a slow nod.

They were all no doubt thinking of the recent Senate session.

 _Bail had stood, waiting for his turn to speak. "I move that we grant the Jedi Council powers to send a search party out to rescue Wizard Knight Kenobi."_

 _Padme seconded the motion. The usual whispering echoed through the chamber as different representative from throughout the Republic discussed their own opinions with their advisors._

 _Chancellor Palpatine had looked concerned. "Motion recognized. But I would hate to upset this momentary truce with…false accusations against our enemy."_

 _Orn Free Taa jumped from his seat. "Surely this war mongering if I've seen the like! Giving the Council free reign to send their wizards to muck up the accords just because they've misplaced one of their knights!"_

" _You can't be serious!" Satine of Mandalore had spat. "The Jedi don't just 'misplace' knights!"_

" _The Jedi promised a quick end to this war, but that hasn't proven true now has it?" Orn Free Taa threw back._

Things spiraled quickly out of control from there. For some reason throughout the entire thing, Padme couldn't look away from Palpatine, and so she didn't miss the strange wicked smirk that had danced across his face for a brief moment as the Senate descended into deadlock.

It had left her feeling strangely chilled. She had asked Captain Typho if he had seen it. He had looked at her like she was crazy.

Perhaps she should bring it up to Bail and Mon. But first they needed to come up with a plan of action.

"I think one of us should go and talk to the Council directly," Padme said.

"That's risky…" Bail stated.

It was not a light proposal. Senators were allowed to address grievances or concerns to the Jedi on an individual basis if they feared foul play or corruption. If they were observed making such an officious request, it would stir up even more unrest amongst the Senate members. And Padme had a feeling that she couldn't explain that it very well might put them in danger from Palpatine himself.

"It's high time somebody did something," Padme snapped. "Corruption may be exactly what we are dealing with here."

Again Mon gave her a weary look and Bail simply nodded. "It should be me that goes," Bail said.

Padme pursed her lips. "Are you trying to be chivalrous, Bail?"

He laughed. A strange bright sound in this dark world they had found themselves in. "My wife would not forgive me if I were not," he said.

Padme smiled craftily. "Which is exactly why you will not be going. None of us can dare risk Breha's wrath if something were to happen to you."

"Padme," Mon started, voice admonishing.

"I have as good a relation with the Council as any of us." _I have the least to lose_ , she left unspoken. "I don't think Palpatine would risk moving against me."

"Just because you are from the same city?" Mon said.

Padme knew it wasn't true. That smirk flashed before her mind's eye. The old man was up to something. But that was all the more reason to try to stop the inertia of whatever destiny was brewing.

So she licked her lips and nodded. "He was my mentor for many years, Mon. I think it should count for something."

Mon looked skeptical, Bail like he wanted to protest.

"I'm doing this," she said, her resolve sudden but firm.

The two nodded, Bail with a sardonic smile on his face. "Let it never be said that I didn't learn when to let a lady have her way. May I at least propose a toast?"

The three of them drank and Bail and Mon left her chamber.

She called for her hand maiden Dorme and together they stripped her out of the ornamental gown she had worn to the Senate chambers. In its place, she donned a simple white jumpsuit. She thanked Dorme for her help and then she set out.

But not to the Council chambers, at least not directly.

Commander Rex's raised eyebrow almost made it worth it all on its own. He was sitting in the foot soldier mess, his twin brother at his elbow, Cody's face a perfect mirror of Rex's. The loud clatter of eating men and women, cups banging against the table and cutlery hammering against plates acted as a good a cover as Padme could ask for. As it turned out, Cody was the first to speak. "Yes, Senator? Something we can help you with?"

"Why yes, boys, so glad you asked. Can you describe for me your last moments with Kenobi?"

"Depends," Rex said, "can you tell us why you want to know?"

"Because I want to rescue him."

The twins shared a look. She waited them out.

"Look Senator, we'll take on a dark wizard with General Kenobi at our backs any day of the week. And I don't care what your Senate has to say on the matter, a dark wizard—"

"—a particular one named Skywalker," Cody interjected.

"—sent a magicked rockslide to wear the general down and had a trap ready and waiting for him to take him captive on that mountain."

"It wasn't bandits, or some other random dark wizard, or anything those Senators were saying," Cody said.

Padme frowned. "Can I ask how you're sure?"

Cody looked away, lips pursed. Rex took a bite of his stew, a long drink from his goblet. "If you had seen the way that Skywalker would look at General Kenobi on the battlefield—"

"—and we've seen it more than once—"

"—you'd understand."

Padme picked a piece of bread from one of the baskets placed in intervals down the long table. She tore at the crust. "So much from just a look?"

"Skywalker is obsessed," Cody said. Rex nodded.

"But why?" And why did she feel like Palpatine was giving Skywalker the room that he needed to do as he pleased with General Kenobi?

Before they could answer, she said, "I need a reason to go speak to the Jedi Council."

They shared a look again. Rex leaned forward. "Listen Senator, politics are no fond practice for me. I'm all about swinging a broadsword and laying down a rain of arrow cover, but I think I know what you are up to, and my understanding is it is a risky thing."

Cody leaned closer. "Especially if there is actually corruption afoot."

The three sat in silence. Rex turned back to his stew. Padme tore at her piece of bread.

Cody pulled out a short knife and started sharpening it. "Rex, remember how we promised to show the senator some archery tips over at the Jedi compound?"

"Of course I remember," Rex said. "I believe we can squeeze her in right when Master Yoda will be working with the younglings on some basic wizardry. Usually about one o'clock."

"That won't be too distracting will it?" Cody asked, glancing up from his blade.

Padme popped a piece of bread into her mouth, grinning around it. "Sounds perfect, gentlemen. Sounds perfect."

Then all she would have to do is get the Grand Master Wizard Yoda to listen to a mere senator and her concerns.

The rest of the evening dragged after she bid farewell to the twin commanders. The next morning, she paid some visits, stopping in to see Mon. Her brother was missing after the siege as it turned out. Padme sat with her for a morning tea time and let the fellow senator cry on her shoulder. Bail was out when she stopped there, but she was only too happy to talk about how her and Bail were attempting to 'get with child' yet again. She had gotten a spell from a local hedgewitch and had high hopes for this time around. Padme gave her as encouraging a smile as she could manage.

She wondered sometimes what it meant to love. Sometimes she wished for a love that was epic and deep like Breha and Bail seemed to have. But then she wondered if it would blind her. She was probably too young to have such a jaded view, but she had seen love blind people that she had thought wise.

Then as happens when one is trying to kill time, it was suddenly one o'clock and she was rushing through the halls to make it to the archery courts in the Jedi wizard's wing of the palace complex. At the last turn, she came to a complete stop, trying to catch her breath, fluttering hands checking that her hair was still securely pinned back.

Cody and Rex were waiting when she rounds the corner. "Late," Cody blurted out, as if he couldn't resist mentioning it. Rex elbowed him in the ribs and offered her a small recurve bow.

The three entered the archery court. Padme let her eyes zero in on the grassy field immediately to the left where there were indeed a small herd of children in the process of levitating some rocks, a small green troll with a walking stick hopping around between them offering words of advice.

It took Padme longer than she wanted to admit to realize the troll was Master Yoda. It was all well and good to be _told_ that the Grand Master Wizard was a troll, it was quite another to actually see it. As in response to her thoughts, one of Yoda's long ears pivoted towards her, the tuft of white hair dangling on the end moving faintly in the breeze.

"Senator?" Cody prompted. Padme gave him a quick nod and shot off a few rounds into the bullseye. She would never admit it, but she was quite pleased with Rex's whistle of surprise.

"What exactly are we teaching you here today?" Rex asked drily, for all that all three of them knew that she wasn't there for archery at all.

"Well, I've never actually shot a long bow," she suggested to help keep up the ruse.

Rex laughed. "Right, why not? You're a little short but we can show a few tips and tricks that may help."

Padme grinned. "It's not often that someone actually is brave enough to comment on my height," she said, keeping up the banter.

Like that they passed a quarter of an hour. Padme, her arms aching from trying to pull back the string on a long bow that really was too big for her, paused as a strange hummed laugh echoed across the courtyard. She glanced over her shoulder, a stray lock of her hair blowing across her face.

Yoda was perched on a fence post, the younglings all long gone. When had they left and how had none of them noticed? What if Yoda had left too?!

"Leave, I could not because obviously wish to talk you do."

Padme shot an accusatory glare at Rex and Cody who both raised their hands in an expression of innocence.

Yoda hopped off the post and shuffled right up to her, knocking his stick against her shins. Padme gaped at him. "Blame them, you shouldn't. Been expecting you I have." He turned and started towards the Council chambers. "Now join me for some tea, won't you?"

Padme didn't know what choice she had but to nod and follow.

Yoda chuckled, as if he had once again heard her thoughts.


	13. Chapter 13

A Jedi Wizard Tale

Chapter 13

***Author's Note: Well I stopped knowing what I was doing plot-wise probably about three chapters ago. Thank you to those who have read so far! I'm just going to keep on writing and see where this goes.

***Warning: Anakin is not his right mind so there's a bit of violence and non-consensual elements in this chapter.

**Disclaimer: (because I keep forgetting) I do not own Star Wars and I make no profit from this other than the joy it brings my twisted heart.

Obi-Wan had been shocked when Skywalker had suddenly backpedaled and dismissed him to his room. Ahsoka, who had seemed to be a cross between morose and outright sulking, had immediately snapped to, ushering him out of the banquet hall. He still felt a little dizzy from whatever Ahsoka had done to him, and that, coupled with the epiphany he had just had…

…Skywalker believed he was the good guy? A wizard avenger seeking justice and freedom for all? It had made the bottom drop out on his stomach. Not because it disgusted him, but because it made him ask himself what were they actually fighting against. Obi-Wan had his own qualms with the Republic and the Jedi Council from time to time, but…he thought about the scars obvious both on Skywalker's and Ahsoka's wrists. He thought about his own run-ins with slavery that _wasn't_ supposed to exist but obviously did.

Could Skywalker have a point? If his impromptu dinner speech was anything like he gave his troops and those he swayed to his side, could the Republic be more corrupted than Obi-Wan would have ever thought possible?

Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder, his throat suddenly dry and his stomach churning. On an impulse, he sent an inquisitive tendril of thought along the mysterious bond he shared with Skywalker, but was immediately repulsed by shields.

He pulled back, oddly hurt by the block and reinforced his own shields. Which made his head spin more. He stumbled into Ahsoka, who had a light guiding hand on his arm.

"Hey, hey. Keep your mitts off your magic and you won't have that problem," she chastised.

"I don't think we should leave him alone right now," he blurted. Something dark tickled his conscience. Something old and dangerous.

Ahsoka had a strong hold on his arm and kept him walking towards and up the stairs. "So you two have this weird bond right? What you're probably sensing is Skyguy's master, and let's just leave it at you don't want anything to do with _him_ , okay?"

Obi-Wan stumbled. "Anakin has a master?!" he exclaimed, eyes wide in shock.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Right said too much. So forget that, and let's get you cozy in your room."

He braced himself for a fight. Because as bizarre as it felt, he suddenly knew that Anakin shouldn't be alone with this so-called master. He slipped out of Ahsoka's hold and started back down the stairs. But he should have known better than to turn his back on an enemy, even one as amiable as Ahsoka.

A shroud of power settled around his chest and legs and even his mouth, yanking him back hard enough that it knocked the wind from him. Frustrated he grunted, spittle catching in his beard. He could move his arms from the elbow down, little good that it did him.

"Look, Obi, can I call you Obi? I don't like leaving Master Skywalker alone with Sidious either, but I like Sidious's attention focused on me even less. And I think Skyguy would _not_ forgive me if I let you go tearing back in there, causing a fuss, getting yourself noticed and such."

Obi-Wan shook his head. The darkness in his mind was blossoming. It was strange in that he could feel and sense it and yet it seemed separate and unaware of him. The hairs went up on the back of his neck. Was Skywalker shielding him from his master's awareness?

Ahsoka shoved him into his room, releasing her magical hold as she did so. He tripped over the chest, catching himself on the edge of the bed. "It's really best if you just stay in here and…wait it out," she said unhappily.

She was shutting the door by the time he recovered enough to turn and shout, "No wait! I need you to listen to me!"

She paused, eyes narrowed, a spark of magic held ready between thumb and forefinger as if she expected a trick of some kind.

Obi-Wan took the opportunity she was offering. "Anakin's getting corrupted somehow. He's hurting. I—I can sense it." He was shocked when he realized he could, shields be damned.

Ahsoka looked away, her mouth a slash of displeasure. She snapped her eyes back to him. "I thought you already thought he _was_ corrupted, what with the Dark Side and all."

"This is different," Obi-Wan pleaded. It felt like there were inky claws raking along the far end of the bond, trying to get through to him. They felt poisoned and dark in a way that Skywalker's magic had never exhibited. "This is _evil_ ," he stressed. "I think I—I need to _go_ to him!"

She stared at him before abruptly wagging a finger at him. "You know Kenobi, you can't blow all hot and cold like this, it's confusing as hell, and _I'm_ not all mixed up in whatever you two have going on."

Obi-Wan stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes. "Look, let me explain a little about what Anakin thinks of you."

"I hardly think now is the time! He's in danger!" He tried not to dwell on how much he cared.

The Togrutan looked sad. She dropped her hand, brushing the spark away between her fingers. She rubbed her arms, watching Obi-Wan out of the corner of her eye. "It always feels like that when Darth Sidious calls on Master Skywalker. He never complains or maybe I'd say something. He thinks the world of him."

"Why?!" It galled him that Anakin could have positive emotions towards such a twisted and wicked presence.

"He saved him, you know? Plucked him out of slavery. Like Skyguy saved me. I don't understand a lot of it, but I understand that."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "That can't—I don't think he's saving him now," he said, unsure of how to articulate what he was feeling. He had gooseflesh all up and down both arms now. His head spun as he made a desperate bid to reach the Force. He felt like there was a sand timer trickling down its grains of sand but he was the one getting buried. Time was almost out. But for what?

…or who?

Ahsoka jumped as the door was pushed open wider out of her hand. Obi-Wan swallowed, trying to relieve his dry throat as Skywalker pushed up against her back. "Ahsoka, you can leave," he said, his eyes locked with Obi-Wan's.

They were a sick gold, like a nest of burnished snakes twisting and knotting around each other.

"Uh, yessir." Ahsoka squeezed past her master, giving him a sloppy salute. "How did things go with the big boss man?" she asked. Obi-Wan watched her do a double take as she looked up at Skywalker. He took that to mean his eyes weren't usually that color. "Are you okay Skyguy?"

"Yes, just have to settle something," Skywalker said, his eyes not once leaving Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan stayed where he was. He didn't want to trap himself into a corner too soon. Once Ahsoka was gone, he had a terrible feeling about the direction things were going to go.

Though maybe he could influence that. It was a risk, but…he dropped the shields he had been holding over the bond and slammed what power he could into it. The room tilted, the spell Ahsoka had used to keep him from using magic reacting to his attempt to use it.

He could make out the cedar chest to his right, one of the fur rugs tickling at his cheek. He must have fallen. Vaguely he could make out Ahsoka scolding him for yet again pulling on his magic. More sharply he heard the sound of a body hitting a wall and Skywalker's dark growl, "I said to leave!"

Obi-Wan got a hand under his shoulder, tried to pull a knee underneath him to push himself up. He felt like he had tried to ride a ronto and the ronto had thrown him to the ground and stomped on him for good measure. There was a tearful, "Okay! You d-didn't have to…!" and the sound of the door slamming shut.

He croaked, "No, don't leave—" _me alone with him._ He fell back against the rug, fibers going up his nose and he couldn't care as he tried to catch his breath as the room spun round and round.

The hands that slipped under his armpits were not gentle. Everything was a blur as he felt rough fingers pulling at his robes and trousers. His magic was completely run dry and he couldn't feel the Force at all. His stomach churned as he felt a hand against his bare stomach. That's when he felt Skywalker's presence come hurtling down the bond, a twisted sense of satisfaction radiating from the Sith because the shields were gone. They both gasped, even as a wind from nowhere swirled around the room.

The bond touch cleared Obi-Wan's head. It alarmed him as much as it energized him, as if he had been in a desert dying of thirst and now he had fallen into a raging river. He ached for it even as it drowned him. Gritting his teeth, he grappled with Anakin's wrists, trying to slow down his roaming hands, trying for—he wasn't even exactly sure…

Skywalker snarled in his face and sideswiped him with a vicious Force push. Obi-Wan had an instant where he wondered if he had done the same to Ahsoka before he hit the headboard, jarring the entire right side of his body. His ears were ringing as he felt Anakin grab his wrists, pressing them above his head. Too slow (too late) he tried to yank out of the hold, but the wood of the headboard had already come alive and grown around his hands once again. He yelled and got his knees up, kicked Skywalker back for a few blessed seconds before his enemy…

( _not_ right _, not an enemy…should be…_ )

…grabbed his ankles and pulled them on either side of his hips, using his weight to pin Obi-Wan down. He writhed, rattling the headboard against the stone wall as he struggled. "Stop this!" he cried. "You promised—"

"I promised nothing!" Anakin cried. Obi-wan's chest heaved, his heart hammered. "You don't understand! YOU'RE MINE!"

It was one of those strange seconds where the world slowed down. Obi-Wan was aware of the tortured jealousy twisting Anakin's face into a mask of ugly possessiveness. He felt the lingering touches of evil on Anakin's essence, so much poison tainting him mind, heart, and soul. He sensed his intent to bind and _own_ , which terrified him, but more importantly Obi-Wan felt the warmth of Anakin beneath the viper's nest of fear and hate. And the soul-sick weariness of being constantly alone.

By now the wind was screaming throughout the room. It grew worse the longer the two of them remained in contact skin to skin. Skywalker was pushing up Obi-Wan's undertunic, a determined grimace grafted on his face. Obi-Wan just stared, wide-eyed, because he realized he actually did _understand_.

Anakin was broken. Maybe he had been born that way. But Obi-Wan had in his…his _soul_ the way to fix him. And as angry and scared and hurt as it made him that Anakin sensed that and was just trying to brutally _take_ it, Obi-Wan felt any equally strong ache to _give_ it.

Thunder exploded in the room. Anakin's hair was as wild as his face as magicked wind buffeted him before he returned all of his attention to undressing Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan ignored the burn of his hands raking down his sides and reached through the bond.

Skywalker had stopped shielding too.

It was so simple then to pull on Skywalker's magic and connection to the Force to untether the spell Ahsoka had placed over his own magic. As his own magic flooded back through him, he opened himself to the Force. The headboard disintegrated. He only vaguely registered Anakin's startled scream before he surged up and slammed the younger man with Force and body on to his back. The wind shrieked as he pressed a palm to Anakin's forehead and washed away the last traces of the evil clinging in his mind.

The room was starting to glow. Anakin writhed underneath him, but Obi-Wan could tell that he wasn't really trying to get away. Obi-Wan climbed to his knees, keeping his palm pressed to Anakin's forehead as he locked eyes with him…

…and noticed the glisten of tears.

Obi-Wan flew back, dimly aware that it wasn't the room that was glowing, but his and Anakin's skin. As soon as he broke contact, the glow stopped and the wind disappeared. The silence was a physical thing, pressing in on Obi-Wan's face, his arms, his ears. He watched Anakin curl in on himself, shoulders shaking, strangled sobs cracking the quiet.

"You're mine too." Obi-Wan murmured and was surprised when he realized how deeply he knew this to be true.

Anakin's eyes were blue when he peaked under an arm to look back at him. "What are you doing to me?" he moaned.

Obi-Wan shook his head, unsure of what to say, unsure if he had an answer. For all the rightness he felt in his heart, his mind was a morass of confusion and shock. His hands were clammy. A single bead of sweat dripped off his nose.

It was without thinking that he crawled back over Anakin. The younger man stifled a squeak as he shifted, this time the one trying to avoid skin-to-skin contact. Obi-Wan left his hand hovering just short of touching Anakin's face, a face that was no longer twisted with anger, but was slack with confusion and awe. He was beautiful.

"May I touch you?" He didn't know why it important that he say it, but he felt it resonate in the Force.

Anakin gave a jerky nod. Consent granted, when Obi-Wan palmed Anakin's jaw, no wind howled except through their bond, now blown wide, more a space that they both could occupy within themselves together than a bond. Their skin didn't glow but the bond did, stitching them together tighter in tighter until Obi-Wan could feel the physical pull of it. Anakin's eyes had rolled back in his head, his fingers dug into the sheets, a sheen of sweat across his bare chest.

"May I kiss you?"

This time the nod was more emphatic. It was a chaste kiss, but they both moaned, power riposting back and forth between them until it settled as an unchangeable leyline all their own.

"May I keep you?" he whispered against his lips.

"Yes, _please_ ," Anakin gasped trying to push up against him. He shoved him back down and kissed him again. This time his lips didn't tingle, at least not from power, though his _soul_ did.


End file.
